THE  ALHAMBRA. 


THE  ALHAMBRA 


Series  of  Cales  ano  Sfcetcbes  of  tbe 
ano  Spaniard. 


WASHINGTON  IRVING. 


NEW  YORK  : 
JOHN    B.    ALDEN, 

1 8  VESEY  STREET. 


<?}  ^  t ,t  ITS' 

\J\ 

I  ( 

DEDICATION. 

TO  DAVID  WILKIE,  ESQ.,  R.A. 


MY  DEAR  SIR  : — You  may  remember  that,  in  the 
course  of  the  rambles  we  once  took  together  about 
some  of  the  old  cities  of  Spain,  particularly  Toledo 
and  Seville,  we  frequently  remarked  the  mixture  of 
the  Saracenic  with  the  Gothic,  remaining  from  the 
time  of  the  Moors,  and  were  more  than  once  struck 
with  incidents  and  scenes  in  the  streets,  that  brought 
to  mind  passages  in  the  "Arabian  Nights."  You 
then  urged  me  to  write  something  illustrative  of  these 
peculiarities;  "something  in  the  Haroun  Alraschid 
style,"  that  should  have  a  dash  of  that  Arabian  spice 
xvhich  pervades  every  thing  in  Spain.  I  call  this  to 
mind  to  show  you  that  you  are,  in  some  degree,  re 
sponsible  for  the  present  work;  in  which  I  have  given 
a  few  "  Arabesque  "  sketches  and  tales,  taken  from  the 
life,  or  founded  on  local  traditions,  and  mostly  struck 
off  during  a  residence  in  one  of  the  most  legendary 
and  Morisco-Spanish  places  of  the  Peninsula. 

I  inscribe  this  work  to  you,  as  a  memorial  of  the 
pleasant  scenes  we  have  witnessed  together,  in  that 
land  of  adventure,  and  as  a  testimony  of  an  esteem 
for  your  worth,  which  can  only  !,e  exceeded  by  ad 
miration  of  your  talents. 

Your  friend  and  fellow  traveller, 
THE  AUTHOR. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

The  Journey, 9 

Government  of  the  Ayiambra,  ...  27 

Interior  of  the  Alhambra,  .  .  .  .  •  31 

^>The  Tower  of  Comares,  .....  40 
Reflections  on  the  Moslem  Domination  in  Spain,  46 

The  Household, 50 

The  Truant 55 

The  Author's  Chamber,  .  .  .  -59 

The  Alhambra  by  Moonlight,  ....  65 
Inhabitants  of  the  Alhambra,  .  .  .  .67 
The  Balcony, 72 

NThe  Adventure  of  the  Mason,        ...         .         .71 

A  Ramble  among  the  Hills,       ....         83 

The  Court  of  Lions,      ......     92 

Boabdil  El  Chico, 99 

X  Mementoes  of  Boabdil,          .....  103 

YrThe  Tower  of  Las  Infantas,  .  .  "".,  .  107 
The  House  of  the  Weathercock,  ....  109 

A  Legend  of  the  Arabian  Astrologer,  .  .  .  Ill 
Legend  of  the  Three  Beautiful  Princesses,  .  .  131 
Local  Traditions, 157 

1^  Legend  of  the  Moor's  Legacy,       .         .         .         .159 

A  Visitors  of  the  Alhambra,  .       182 


8  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

\Legend  of  Prince  Ahmed  Al  Kamel  ;  or,  The,  Pil 
grim  of  Love,    .......  189 

of   the   Rose   of  the  Alhambra;  or,  The 
Page  and  the  Ger-Falcon,       ....       223 

)*\The  Veteran 240 

TsThe  Governor  and  the  Notary,  .         .       242 

'vernor  Manco  and  the  Soldier,  .         .         .   250 

*)&£,egend  of  the  Two  Discreet  Statues,          .         .       269 
Mahamad  Aben  Alahmar,   the  Founder  of  the  Al 
hambra,     .          .         .         .         .         .  .  280 

Jusef  Abul   Hagias,  the  Finisher  of   the  Alham 
bra,  .         .         .         .         .297 


THE  JOURNEY. 

IN  the  spring  of  1829,  the  author  of  this  work, 
whom  curiosity  had  brought  into  Spain,  made  a 
rambling  expedition  from  Seville  to  Granada,  in 
company  with  a  friend,  a  member  of  the  Russian 
embassy  at  Madrid.  Accident  had  thrown  us  to 
gether  from  distant  regions  of  the  globe,  and  a  simi 
larity  of  taste  led  us  to  wander  together  among  the 
romantic  mountains  of  Andalusia.  Should  these 
pages  meet  his  eye,  wherever  thrown  by  the  duties 
of  his  station,  whether  mingling  in  the  pageantry  of 
courts  or  meditating  on  the  truer  glories  of  nature, 
may  they  recall  the  scenes  of  our  adventurous  com 
panionship,  and  with  them  the  remembrance  of  one, 
in  whom  neither  time  nor  distance  will  obliterate 
the  recollection  of  his  gentleness  and  worth. 

And  here,  before  setting  forth,  let  me  indulge  in  a 
few  previous  remarks  on  Spanish  scenery  and 
Spanish  travelling.  Many  are  apt  to  picture  Spain 
in  their  imaginations  as  a  soft  southern  region  decked 
tr.it  with  all  the  luxuriant  charms  of  voluptuous  Italy. 
On  the  contrary,  though  there  are  exceptions  in  some 
of  the  maritime  provinces,  yet,  for  the  greater  part, 
it  is  a  stern,  melancholy  country,  with  rugged  moun 
tains  and  long,  naked,  sweeping  plains,  destitute  of 
trees,  and  invariably  silent  and  lonesome,  partaking 
of  the  savage  and  solitary  character  of  Africa.  What 
adds  to  this  silence  and  loneliness,  is  the  absence  of 
singing  birds,  a  natural  consequence  of  the  want  of 


10  THE  AU1AMBJ. 

groves  and  hedges.  The  vulture  and  tf  e  eagle  arc 
seen  wheeling  about  the  mountain  cliffs  and  soaring 
over  the  plains,  and  groups  of  shy  bj^rc!*  stalk 
about  the  heaths,  but  the  myriads  of  smaller  birds, 
which  animate  the  whole  face  of  other  countries,  are 
met  with  in  hut  tew  provinces  of  Spain,  and  in  them 
chiefly  amon;^  the  orchards  and  gardens  which  sur 
round  the  habitations  of  man. 

In  the  exterior  provinces,  the  traveller  OQcasipnaLy 
traverses  great  tracts  cultivated  with  gra 
the  eye  can  re.ic'.i,  waving  at  times  with  verdure,  at 
other  times  n;ked  and  sun -burn  t ;  but  he  looks 
round  in  vain  for  the  hand  that  has  tilled  the  soil : 
at  length  he  perceives  some  village  perched  on  a 
steep  hill,  or  tugged  crag,  with  mouldering  battle 
ments  and  ruined  watch-tower:  a  strong-hold,  in 
old  times,  against  civil  war  or  Moorish  inroad ;  tor 
the  custom'  among  the  peasantry  of  congregatin 
together  for  mutual  protection,  is  still  kept  up  :? 
most  parts  of  S}K>in,  in  consequence  of  the  :• 

of  roving  freebooters* 

'But  though  a  great  part  of  Spain  is  deiicu- 
the  garnitute  of  groves  and  forests,  and 
charms  of  ornamental  cultivation,  yet  its  scenery  has 
something  of  a  high  and  loity  character  to  compen 
sate  the  want.     It  partakes  sorrfething  of  the  attri- 
•butes  of  its  people,  and  I  think  that  I  better  under 
stand  the  proud,  hardy,  frugal  and  ,v  Span 
iard,  his  manly  defiance  of  hardships,  and  contempt 
of  effeminate  indulgences,  since  1  have  seen  the  coun- 
trv  r,.- 

re  is  something,  too,  in  the  sternly  simple 
es  of  the  Spanish  landscape,  that  impresses  on 
the  soul  a  feeling  of  sublimity.  The  immense  plains 
of  the  Castiles  and  La  Mancha,  extending  as  far  as 
the  eye  can  reach,  derive  an  interest  from  their  very 
nakedness  and  imn  •  .  ave  something  ol  <! 

solemn  grandeur  of  the  ocean.     In  I 


THE  JOUENEY.  11 

these  boundless  wastes,  the  eye  catches  sight,  here 
and  there,  of  a  straggling  herd  of  cattle  attended  by 
a  lonely  herdsman,  motionless  as  a  statue,  with  his 
long  slender  pike  tapering  up  like  a  lance  into  the 
air ;  or  beholds  a  long  train  of  mules  slowly  moving 
along  the  waste  like  a  train  of  camels  in  the  desert, 
or  a  single  herdsmen,  armed  with  blunderbuss  and 
stiletto,  and  prowling  over  the  plain.  Thus,  the 
country,  the  habits,  the  very  looks  of  the  people, 
have  something  of  the  Arabian  character.  The 
general  insecurity  of  the  country  is  evinced  in  the 
universal  use  of  weapons.  The  herdsman  in  the 
field,  the  shepherd  in  the  plain  has  his  musket  and 
his  knife.  The  wealthy  villager  rarely  ventures  to 
the  market-town  without  his  trabuchp  ;  and,  per 
haps,  a  servant  on  foot  with  a  blunderbuss  on  his 
shoulder  ;  and  the  most  petty  journey  is  undertaken 
with  the  preparations  of  a  warlike  enterprse.  -*—  — 
The  dangers  of  the  road  produce,  also,  a  mode  of 
travelling,  resembling,  on  a  diminutive  scale,  the 
caravans  of  the  East.  The  arrieros  or  carriers,  con 
gregate  in  troops,  and  set  off  in  large  and  well- 
armed  trains  on  appointed  days,  while  individual 
travellers  swell  their  number  and  contribute  to  their 
strength.  In  this  primitive  way  is  the  commerce  of 
the  country  carried  on.  The  muleteer  is  the  general 
medium  of  traffic,  and  the  legitimate  wanderer  of 
the  land,  traversing  the  Peninsula  from  the  Pyrenees 
and  the  Asturias,  to  the  Alpuxarras,  the  Serrania  de 
Ronda,  and  even  to  the  gates  of  Gibraltar.  He  lives 
frugally  and  hardily  ;  his  alforjas  (or  saddle-bags,)  of 
coarse  cloth,  hold  his  scanty  stock  of  provisions  ;  a 
leathern  bottle  hanging  at  his  saddle-bow,  contains 
wine  or  water  for  a  supply  across  barren  mountains 
and  thirsty  plains  ;  a  mule  cloth  spread  upon  the 
ground  is  his  bed  at  night,  and  his  pack-saddle  is  his 
pillow.  His  low  but  clear-limbed  and  sinewy  form 
betokens  strength  ;  his  complexion  is  dark  and  sun- 


1.2  Jt  LLJL^I    Ji.JuXJ. 

Durnt ;  his  eye  resolute,  but  quiet  in  its  expression, 
except  when  kindled  by  sudden  emotion  ;  his  de 
meanour  is  frank,  manly,  and  courteous,  and  he 
never  passes  you  without  a  grave  salutation — "  Dios 
guarda  a  usted !  " — "  Vay  usted  con  Dios  cabal- 
lero  !  " — "  God  guard  you  1  " — "  God  be  with  you  ! 
cavalier ! " 

As  these  men  have  often  their  whole  fortune  at 
stake  upon  the  burden  of  their  mules,  they  have  their 
weapons  at  hand,  slung  to  their  saddles,  and  ready 
to  be  snatched  down  for  desperate  defence.  But 
their  united  numbers  render  them  secure  against 
petty  bands  of  marauders,  and  the  solitary  bancla- 
jero.  armed  to  the  teeth,  and  mounted  on  his  An- 
dalusian  steed,  hovers  about  them,  like  a  pirate 
about  a  merchant  convoy,  without  daring  to  make 
an  assault. 

The  Spanish  muleteer  has  an  inexhaustible  stock 
of  songs  and  ballads,  with  which  to  beguile  his  in 
cessant  way-faring.  The  airs  are  rude  and  simple, 
consisting  of  but  few  inflexions.  These  he  chants  forth 
with  a  loud  voice,  and  long  drawling  cadence,  seated 
sideways  on  his  mule,  who  seems  to  listen  with  in 
finite  gravity,  and  to  keep  time  with  his  paces,  to 
the  tune.  The  couplets  thus  chanted  are  often  old 
traditional  romances  about  the  Moors ;  or  some 
legend  of  a  saint ;  or  some  love  ditty  ;  or,  what  is 
still  more  frequent,  some  ballad  about  a  bold  contra- 
bandista,  or  hardy  bandalero  ;  for  the  smuggler  and 
the  robber  are  poetical  heroes  among  the  common 
people  of  Spain.  Often  the  song  of  the  muleteer  is 
composed  at  the  instant,  and  relates  to  some  local 
scene,  or  some  incident  of  the  journey.  This  talent 
of  singing  and  improvising  is  frequent  in  Spain,  and 
is  said  to  have  been  inherited  from  the  Moors.  There 
is  something  wildly  pleasing  in  listening  to  these 
ditties  among  the  rude  and  lonely  scenrs  they  illus- 
tratf  '  "  as  they  arv,  by  "he  QC>,:. 

jing;c  of  the  mule-bell. 


THE  JOURNEY.  18 

It  has  a  most  picturesque  effect,  also,  to  meet  a 
train  of  muleteers  in  some  mountain  pass.  First 
you  hear  the  bells  of  the  leading  mules,  breaking 
with  their  simple  melody  the  stillness  of  the  airy 
height ;  or,  perhaps,  the  voice  of  the  muleteer  ad 
monishing  some  tardy  or  wandering  animal,  or 
chanting,  at  the  full  stretch  of  his  lungs,  some  tra 
ditionary  ballad.  At  length  you  see  the  mules  slowly 
winding  along  the  cragged  defile,  sometimes  de 
scending  precipitous  cliffs,  so  as  to  present  them 
selves  in  full  relief  against  the  sky,  sometimes  toiling 
up  the  deep  arid  chasms  below  you.  As  they  ap 
proach,  you  descry  their  gay  decorations  of  worsted 
tufts  tassels,  and  saddle-cloths ;  while,  as  they  pass 
by,  the  ever  ready  tralrucho,  slung  behind  their  packs 
and  saddles,  gives  a  hint  of  the  insecurity  of  the  road. 

The  ancient  kingdom  of  Granada,  into  which  \\e 
are  about  to  penetrate,  is  one  of  the  most  moun 
tainous  regions  of  Spain.  Vast  sierras  or  chains 
of  mountains,  destitute  of  shrub  or  tree,  and  mottled 
with  variegated  marbles  and  granites,  elevate  their 
sun-burnt  summits  against  a  deep  blue  sky,  yet  in 
their  rugged  bosoms  lie  engulfed  the  most  verdant 
and  fertile  valley,  where  the  desert  and  the  garden 
strive  for  mastery,  and  the  very  rock,  as  it  were,  com 
pelled  to  yield  the  fig,  the  orange,  and  the  citron, 
and  to  blossom  with  the  myrtle  and  the  rose. 

In  the  wild  passes  of  these  mountains,  the  sight  of 
walled  towns  and  villages  built  like  eagles'  nests 
among  the  cliffs,  and  surrounded  by  Moorish  battle 
ments,  or  of  ruined  watch-towers  perched  on  lofty 
peaks,  carry  the  mind  back  to  the  chivalrous  days  of 
Christian  and  Moslem  warfare,  and  to  the  romantic 
struggle  for  the  conquest  of  Granada.  In  traversing 
their  lofty  Sierras,  the  traveller  is  often  obliged  to 
alight  and  lead. his  horse  up  and  down  the  steep  and 
jagged  ascents  and  descents,  resembling  the  broken 
steps  of  a  staircase.  Sometimes  the  road  winds  along- 


14  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

dizzy  precipices,  without  parapet  to  guard  him  from 
the  gulfs  below,  and  then  will  plunge  down  steep 
and  dark  and  dangerous  declivities.  Sometimes  it 
struggles  through  rugged  barrancos,  or  ravines,  worn 
by  water  torrents  ;  the  obscure  paths  of  the  Contra- 
bandista,  while  ever  and  anon,  the  ominous  cross, 
the  memento  of  robbery  and  murder,  erected  on  a 
mound  of  stones  at  some  lonely  part  of  the  road, 
admonishes  the  traveller  that  he  is  among  the  haunts 
of  banditti ;  perhaps,  at  that  very  moment,  under  the 
eye  of  some  lurking  bandalero.  Sometimes,  in  wind 
ing  through  the  narrow  valleys,  he  is  startled  by  a 
hoarse  bellowing,  and  beholds  above  him,  on  some 
green  fold  of  the  mountain  side,  a  herd  of  fierce  An- 
dalusian  bulls,  destined  for  the  combat  of  the  arena. 
There  is  something  awful  in  the  contemplation  of 
tnese  terrific  animals,  clothed  with  tremendous 
strength,  and  ranging  their  native  pastures,  in  un 
tamed  wildness :  strangers  almost  to  the  face  of  man. 
They  know  no  one  but  the  solitary  herdsman  who 
attends  upon  them,  and  even  he  at  times  dares  not 
venture  to  approach  them.  The  low  bellowings  of 
these  bulls,  and  their  menacing  aspect  as  they  look 
down  from  their  rocky  height,  give  additional  wild- 
ness  to  the  savage  scenery  around. 

I  have  been  betrayed  unconsciously  into  a  longer 
disquisition  than  I  had  intended  on  the  several  fea 
tures  of  Spanish  travelling  ;  but  there  is  a  romance 
about  all  the  recollections  of  the  Peninsula  that  is 
dear  to  the  imagination. 

1  It  was  on  the  first  of  May  that  my  companion 
^and  myself  set  forth  from  Seville,  on  our  route  to 
Granada.  We  had  made  all  due  preparations  for 
the  nature  of  our  journey,  which  lay  through  moun 
tainous  regions  where  the  roads  are  little  better  than 
mere  mule  paths,  and  too  frequently  beset  by  robbers. 
The  most  valuable  part  of  our  luggage  had  been  for- 
wajrded  by  the  arrieros  ;  we  retained  merely  clothing 


THE  JOURNEY.  15 

and  necessaries  for  the  journey,  and  money  for  the 
expenses  of  the  road,  with  a  sufficient  surplus  of  the 
latter  to  satisfy  the  expectations  of  robbers,  should 
we  be  assailed,  and  to  save  ourselves  from  the  rough 
treatment  that  awaits  the  too  wary  and  emptyhanded 
traveller.  A  couple  of  stout  hired  steeds  were  pro 
vided  for  ourselves,  and  a  third  for  our  scanty  luggage, 
and  for  the  conveyance  of  a  sturdy  Biscayan  lad  of 
about  twenty  years  of  age,  who  was  to  guide  us 
through  the  perplexed  mazes  of  the  mountain  roads, 
to  take  care  of  our  horses,  to  act  occasionally  as  our 
valet,  and  at  all  times  as  our  guard  ;  for  he  had  a 
formidable  trabucho,  or  carbine,  to  defend  us  from 
rateros,  or  solitary  footpads,  about  which  weapon  he 
made  much  vain-glorious  boast,  though,  to  the  dis 
credit  of  his  generalship,  I  must  say,  that  it  generally 
hung  unloaded  behind  his  saddle.  He  was,  however, 
a  raithful,  cheery,  kind-hearted  creature,  full  of  saws 
and  proverbs  as  that  miracle  of  squires,  the  renowned 
Sancho  himself,  whose  name  we  bestowed  upon  him  ; 
and,  like  a  true  Spaniard,  though  treated  by  us  with 
companionable  familiarity,  he  never  for  a  moment  in 
his  utmost  hilarity,  outstripped  the  bounds  of  respect 
ful  decorum. 

Thus  equipped  and  attended,  we  set  out  on  our 
journey  with  a  genuine  disposition  to  be  pleased : 
with  such  a  disposition,  what  a  country  is  Spain  for 
a  traveller,  where  the  most  miserable  inn  is  as  full 
of  adventure  as  an  enchanted  castle,  and  every  meal 
is  in  itself  an  achievement !  Let  others  repine  at  the 
lack  of  turnpike  roads  and  sumptuous  hotels,  ami  all 
the  elaborate  comforts  of  a  country  cultivated  into 
tameness  and  common-place,  but  give  me  the  rude 
mountain  scramble,  the  roving  haphazard  way-faring, 
the  frank,  hospitable,  though"  half  wild  manners,  that 
give  such  a  true  game  flavour  to  romantic  Spain  ! 

Our  first  evening's  entertainment  had  a  relish  of 
the  kind.  We  arrived  after  sunset  at  a  little  town 


16  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

among  the  hills,  after  a  fatiguing  journey  over  a 
wide  houseless  plain,  where  we  had  been  repeatedly 
drenched  with  showers.  In  the  inn  were  quartered 
a  party  of  Miguelistas,  who  were  patrolling  the  coun 
try  in  pursuit  of  robbers.  The  appearance  of  for 
eigners  like  ourselves  was  unusual  in  this  remote 
town.  Mine  host  with  two  or  three  old  gossipping 
comrades  in  brown  cloaks  studied  our  passports  in 
a  corner  of  the  posada,  while  an  Alguazil  took  notes 
by  the  dim  light  of  a  lamp.  The  passports  were  in 
foreign  languages  and  perplexed  them,  but  our 
.Squire  Sancho  assisted  them  in  their  studies,  and 
magnified  our  importance  with  the  grandiloquence 
of  a  Spaniard.  In  the  mean  time  the  magnificent 
distribution  of  a  few  cigars  had  won  the  hearts  of 
all  around  us.  In  a  little  while  the  whole  commu 
nity  seemed  put  in  agitation  to  make  us  welcome. 
The  Corregidor  himself  waited  upon  us,  and  a  great 
rush-bottomed  armed  chair  was  ostentatiously  bol 
stered  into  our  room  by  our  landlady,  for  the  accom 
modation  of  that  important  personage.  The  com 
mander  of  the  patrol  took  supper  with  us  :  a  surly, 
talking,  laughing,  swaggering  Andaluz,  who  had 
made  a  campaign  in  South  America,  and  recounted 
his  exploits  in  love  and  war  with  much  pomp  of 
praise  and  vehemence  of  gesticulation,  and  myste 
rious  rolling  of  the  eye.  He  told  us  he  had  a  list  of 
all  the  robbers  in  the  country,  and  meant  to  ferret 
•^ut  every  mother's  son  of  them  ;  he  offered  us  at 
the  same  time  some  of  his  soldiers  as  an  escort. 
"  One  is  enough  to  protect  you,  Signors  ;  the  robbers 
know  me,  and  know  my  men ;  the  sight  of  one  is 
enough  to  spread  terror  through  a  whole  sierra." 
We  thanked  him  for  his  offer,  but  assured  him,  in 
his  own  strain,  that  with  the  protection  of  our  re 
doubtable  Squire  Sancho,  we  were  not  afraid  of  all 
the  ladrones  of  Andalusia. 


THE  JOURNEY.  17 

While  we  were  supping  with  our  Andalusian 
friend,  we  heard  the  notes  of  a  guitar  and  the  click 
of  castanets,  and  presently,  a  chorus  of  voices,  sing 
ing  a  popular  air.  In  fact,  mine  host  had  gathered 
together  the  amateur  singers  and  musicians  and  the 
rustic  belles  of  the  neighbourhood,  and  on  going 
forth,  the  court-yard  of  the  inn  presented  a  scene 
of  true  Spanish  festivity.  We  took  our  seats  with 
mine  host  and  hostess  and  the  commander  of  the 
patrol,  under  the  archway  of  the  court.  The  guitar 
passed  from  hand  to  hand,  but  a  jovial  shoemaker 
was  the  Orpjieus_of  the  place.  He  was  a  pleasant 
looking  felTow  with  huge  black  whiskers  and  a  rogu 
ish  eye.  His  sleeves  were  rolled  up  to  his  elbows : 
he  touched  the  guitar  with  masterly  skill,  and  sang 
little  amorous  ditties  with  an  expressive  leer  at.  ibc 
women,  with  whom  he  was  evidently  a  favour  it-? 
He  afterwards  danced  a  fandango  with  a  buxom 
Andalusian  damsel,  to  the  great  delight  of  the  spec 
tators.  But  none  of  the  females  present  could  com 
pare  with  mine  host's  pretty  daughter  Josefa,  who 
had  slipped  away  and  made  her  toilette  for  the  occa 
sion,  and  had  adorned  her  head  with  roses  ;  and  also 
distinguished  herself  in  a  bolero  with -a  handsome 
young  dragoon.  We  had  ordered  our  host  to  let 
wine  and  refreshments  circulate  freely  among  the 
company,  yet,  though  there  was  a  motley  assem 
blage  of  soldiers,  muleteers  and  villagers,  no  one 
exceeded  the  bounds  of  sober  enjoyment.  The 
scene  was  a  study  for  a  painter :  the  picturesque 
group  of  dancers ;  the  troopers  in  their  half  military 
dresses,  the  peasantry  wrapped  in  their  brown 
cloaks,  nor  must  I  omit  to  mention  the  old  meagre 
Alguazil  in  a  short  black  cloak,  who  took  no  notice 
of  any  thing  going  on,  but  sat  in  a  corner  diligently 
writing  by  the  dim  light  of  a  huge  copper  lamp  that 
might  have  figured  in  the  days  of  Don  Quixote. 


18  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

I  am  not  writing  a  regular  narrair,  e,  and  do  not 
pretend  to  give  the  varied  events  of  several  days' 
rambling'  over  hill  and  dale,  and  moor  and  moun 
tain.  We  travelled  in  true  contrabandist*  style,  tak 
ing  every  thing,  rough  and  smooth,  as  we  found  it, 
and  mingling  with  all  classes  and  conditions  in  a 
kind  of  vagabond  companionship.  It  is  the  true 
way  to  travel  in  Srain.  Knowing  the  scanty  larders 
of  the  inns,  and  the  naked  tracts  of  country  the  trav 
eller  has  often  to  traverse,  we  had  taken  care,  on 
starting,  to  have  the  alforjas,  or  saddle-bags,  of  our 
Squire  well  stocked  with  cold  provisions,  and  his 
beta,  or  leathern  bottle,  which  was  of  portly  dimen 
sions,  filled  to  the  neck  with  choice  Valdepenas  wine. 
As  this  was  a  munition  for  our  campaign  more  im 
portant  than  even  his  trabucho,  we  exhorted  him  to 
have  an  eye  to  it,  and  I  will  do  him  the  justice  to  say 
that  his  namesake,  the  trencher-loving  Sancho  him 
self,  could  not  excel  him  as  a  provident  purveyor. 
Though  the  alforjas  and  beta  were  repeatedly  and 
vigorously  assailed  throughout  the  journey,  they  ap 
peared  to  have  a  miraculous  property  of  being  never 
empty ;  for  our  vigilant  Squire  took  care  to  sack 
every  thing  that  remained  from  our  evening  repasts 
at  the  inns,  to  supply  our  next  day's  luncheon. 

What  luxurious  noontide  repasts  have  we  made  on 
the  green  sward  by  the  side  of  a  brook  or  fountain 
under  a  shady  tree,  and  then  what  delicious  siestas 
on  our  cloaks  spread  out  on  the  herbage  ! 

WTe  paused  one  day  at  noon,  for  a  repast  of  the 
kind.  It  was  in  a  pleasant  little  green  meadow,  sur 
rounded  by  hills  covered  with  olive  trees.  Our 
cloaks  were  spread  on  the  grass  under  an  elm  tree, 
by  the  side  of  a  babbling  rivulet :  our  horses  were 
tethered  where  they  might  crop  the  herbage,  and 
Sancho  produced  his  alforjas  with  an  air  of  triumph. 
They  contained  the  contributions  of  f&ur  days'  jour 
neying,  but  had  been  signally  enriched  hv  the  for- 


THE  JOURNEY.  19 

aging  of  the  previous  evening,  in  a  plenteous  inn  at 
Antequera.  Our  Squire  drew  forth  the  heterogene 
ous  contents  one  by  one,  and  they  seemed  to  have 
no  end.  First  came  forth  a  shoulder  of  roasted  kid, 
very  little  the  worse  for  wear,  then  an  entire  par 
tridge,  then  a  great  morsel  of  salted  codfish  wrapped 
in  paper,  then  the  residue  of  a  ham,  then  the  half  of 
a  pullet,  together  with  several  rolls  of  bn^acl  and  a 
rabble  route  of  oranges,  figs,  raisins,  and  walnuts. 
His  beta  also  had  been  recruited  with  some  excel 
lent  wine  of  Malaga.  At  ever)'  fresh  apparition  from 
his  larder,  he  could  enjoy  our  ludicrous  surprise, 
throwing  himself  back  on  the  grass  arid  shouting 
with  laughter. 

Nothing-  pleased  this  simple-hearted  varlet  more 
than  to  be  compared,  for  his  devotion  to  the  trencher, 
to  the  renowned  rquire  of  Don  Quixote.  He  was 
well  versed  in  the  history  of  the  Don,  and,  like  most 
of  the  common  people  of  Spain,  he  firmly  believed  it 
to  be  a  true  history. 

"  All  that,  however,  happened  a  long  time  ago, 
Signor,"  said  he  to  me,  one  day,  with  an  inquiring 
look. 

"A  very  long  time,"  was  the  reply. 

"  I  dare  say,  more  than  a  thousand  years?" — still 
looking  dubiously. 

"  I  dare  say?  not  less." 

The  squire  was  satisfied. 

As  we  were  making  our  repast  above  described, 
and  diverting  ourselves  with  the  simple  drollery  of 
our  squire,  a  solitary  beggar  approached  us,  who 
had  almost  the  look  of  a  pilgrim.  He  was  evidently 
very  old,  with  a  gray  beard,  and  supported  himself 
on  a  staff,  yet  age  had  not  borne  him  down  ;  he  was 
tall  and  erect,  and  had  the  wreck  of  a  fine  form. 
He  wore  a  round  Andalusian  hat,  a  sheepskin  jacket, 
and  leathern  breeches,  gaiters,  and  sandals.  His 
dress,  though  oid  and  patched,  was  decent,  his  de- 


20  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

meanour  manly,  and  he  addressed  us  with  that  grave 
courtesy  that  is  to  be  remarked  in  the  lowest  Span 
iard.  We  were  in  a  favourable  mood  for  such  a  vis 
itor,  and  in  a  freak  of  capricious  charity  gave  him 
some  silver,  a  loaf  of  fine  whoaten  bread,  and  a  gob 
let  of  our  choice  wine  of  Malaga.  He  received  them 
thankfully,  but  without  any  grovelling  tribute  of  grat 
itude.  Tasting  the  wine,  he  held  it  up  to  the  light, 
with  a  slight  beam  of  surprise  in  his  eye  ;  then  quaff 
ing  it  off  at  a  draught :  "  It  is  many  years,"  said  he, 
"  since  I  have  tasted  such  wine.  It  is  a  cordial  to 
an  old  man's  heart."  Then  looking  at  the  beautiful 
wheaten  loaf:  "  Bendita  sea  tal  pan  !"  (blessed  be 
such  bread  !)  So  saying,  he  put  it  in  his  wallet.  We 
urged  him  to  eat  it  on  the  spot.  "  No,  Signors,"  re 
plied  he,  "  the  wine  I  had  to  drink,  or  leave ;  but  the 
bread  I  must  take  home  to  share  with  my  family." 

Our  man  Sancho  sought  our  eye,  and  reading  per 
mission  there,  gave  the  old  man  some  of  the  ample 
fragments  of  our  repast ;  on  condition,  however,  that 
he  should  sit  down  and  make  a  meal.  He  accord 
ingly  took  his  seat  at  some  little  distance  from  us, 
and  began  to  eat,  slowly,  and  with  a  sobriety  and 
decorum  that  would  have  become  a  hidalgo.  There 
was  altogether  a  measured  manner  and  a  quiet  self- 
possession  about  the  old  man  that  made  me  think 
he  had  seen  better  days ;  his  language,  too,  though 
simple,  had  occasionally  something  picturesque  and 
almost  poetical  in  the  phraseology.  I  set  him  down 
for  some  broken-down  cavalier.  I  was  mistaken,  it 
was  nothing  but  the  innate  courtesy  of  a  Spaniard, 
and  the  poetical  turn  of  thought  and  language  often 
to  be  found  in  the  lowest  classes  of  this  clear-witted 
people.  For  fifty  years,  he  told  us,  he  had  been  a 
shepherd,  but  now  he  was  out  of  employ,  and  desti 
tute.  "  When  I  was  a  young  man,"  said  he,  "  noth 
ing  could  harm  or  trouble  me.  I  was  always  well, 
always  gay ;  but  now  I  am  seventy-nine  years  of  age, 
and  a  beggar,  and  my  heart  begins.to  fail  .me." 


THE  JOURNEY.  21 

Still  he  was  not  -a  regular  mendicant,  it  was  not 
until  recently  that  want  had  driven  him  to  this  de 
gradation,  and  he  gave  a  touching  picture  of  the 
struggle  between  hunger  and  pride,  when  abject  des 
titution  first  came  upon  him.  He  was  returning 
from  Malaga,  without  money ;  he  had  not  tasted 
food  for  some  time,  and  was  crossing  one  of  the 
great  plains  of  Spain,  where  there  were  but  few  hab 
itations.  When  almost  dead  with  hunger,  he  ap 
plied  at  the  door  of  a  venta,  or  country  inn.  "  Per- 
dona  usted  per  Dios  hermano!"  (excuse  us,  brother, 
for  God's  sake  !)  was  the  reply  ; — the  usual  mode  in 
Spain  of  refusing  a  beggar.  "  I  turned  away,"  said 
he,  "  with  shame  greater  than  my  hunger,  for  my 
heart  was  yet  too  proud.  I  came  to  a  river  with 
high  banks  and  deep  rapid  current,  and  felt  tempted 
to  throw  myself  in ;  what  should  such  an  old  worth 
less  wretched  man  as  I  live  for  !  But,  when  1  was 
on  the  brink  of  the  current,  I  thought  on  the  blessed 
Virgin,  and  turned  away.  I  travelled  on  until  I  saw 
a  country-seat,  at  a  little  distance  from  the  road,  and 
entered  the  outer  gate  of  the  court-yard.  The  door 
was  shut,  but  there  were  two  young  signcras  at  a 
window.  I  approached,  and  begged :  *  Perclona 
usted  per  Dios  hermano!'  (excuse  us,  brother,  for 
God's  sake  !)  and  the  window  closed.  I  crept  out  of 
the  court-yard  ;  but  hunger  overcame  me,  and  my 
heart  gave  way.  I  thought  my  hour  was  at  hand. 
So  I  laid  myself  down  at  the  gate,  commended  my 
self  to  the  holy  Virgin,  and  covered  my  head  to  die. 
In  a  little  while  afterwards,  the  master  of  the  house 
came  home.  Seeing  me  lying  at  his  gate,  he  un 
covered  my  head,  had  pity  on  my  gray  hairs,  took 
rne  into  his  house  and  gave  me  food.  So,  Signers, 
you  see  that  we  should  always  put  confidence  in  the 
protection  of  the  "Virgin." 

The  old  man  was  "on  his  way  to  his  native  place 
Archidona,  which  was  close  by  the  summit  of  a 


22  THE  ALHAMBEA. 

steep  and  rugged  mountain.  He  pointed  to  the  ru 
ms  of  its  old  Moorish  castle.  That  castle,  he  said, 
was  inhabited  by  a  Moorish  king  at  the  time  of  the 
wars  of  Granada.  Queen  Isabella  invaded  it  with  a 
great  army,  but  the  king  looked  down  from  his  cas 
tle  among  the  clouds,  and  laughed  her  to  scorn. 
Upon  this,  the  Virgin  appeared  to  the  queen,  and 
guided  her  and  her  army  up  a  mysterious  path  of  the 
mountain,  which  had  never  before  been  known. 
When  the  Moor  saw  her  coming,  he  was  astonished, 
and  springing  with  his  horse  from  a  precipice,  was 
dashed  to  pieces.  The  marks  of  his  horse's  hoofs, 
said  the  old  man,  are  to  be  seen  on  the  margin  of  the 
rock  to  this  day.  And  see,  Signers,  yonder  is  the 
road  by  which  the  queen  and  her  army  mounted, 
you  see  it  like  a  riband  up  the  mountain  side  ;  but 
the  miracle  is,  that,  though  it  can  be  seen  at  a  dis 
tance,  when  you  come  near,  it  disappears.  The  ideal 
road  to  which  he  pointed,  was  evidently  a  sandy  ra 
vine  of  the  mountain,  which  looked  narrow  and  de 
fined  at  a  distance,  but  became  broad  and  indistinct 
on  an  approach.  As  the  old  man's  heart  warmed 
with  wine  and  wassail,  he  went  on  to  tell  us  a  story  of 
the  buried  treasure  left  under  the  earth  by  the  Moor 
ish  king.  His  own  house  was  next  to  the  founda 
tions  of  the  castle.  The  curate  and  notary  dreamt 
three  times  of  the  treasure,  and  went  to  work  at  the 
place  pointed  out  in  their  dreams.  His  own  son-in- 
law  heard  the  sound  of  their  pick-axes  and  spades  at 
night.  What  they  found  nobody  knows ;  they  be 
came  suddenly  rich,  but  kept  their  own  secret.  Thus 
the  old  man  had  once  been  next  door  to  fortune,  but 
was  doomed. never  to  get  under  the  same  roof. 

I  have  remarked  that  the  stories  of  treasure  buried 
by  the  Moors,  which  prevail  throughout  Spain,  are 
most  current  among  the  poorest  people.  It  is  thus 
kind  nature  consoles  with  shadows  for  the  lack  of 
substantials.  The  thirsty  man  dreams  of  fountnins 


THE  JOURNEY.  23 

and  roaring  streams,  the  hungry  man  of  ideal  ban 
quets,  and  the  poor  man  of  heaps  of  hidden  gold  ; 
nothing  certainly  is  more  magnificent  than  the 
imagination  of  a  beggar. 

The  last  travelling  sketch  which  I  shall  give  is  a 
curious  scene  at  the  little  city  of  Loxa.  This  was  a 
famous  belligerent  frontier  post,  in  the  time  of  the 
Moors,  and  repulsed  Ferdinand  from  its  walls.  It 
was  the  strong-hold  of  old  Ali  Atar,  the  father-in-law 
of  Boabclil,  when  that  fiery  veteran  sallied  forth  with 
his  son-in  law,  on  that  disastrous  inroad,  that  ended 
in  the  death  of  the  chief  ain,  and  the  capture  of  the 
monarch.  Loxa  is  wildly  situated  in  a  broken 
mountain  pass,  on  the  banks  of  the  Xenil,  among 
rocks  and  groves,  and  meadows  and  gardens. 
The  people  seem  still  to  retain  the  bold  fiery  spirit 
of  the  olden  time.  Our  inn  was  suited  to  the  place. 
It  was  kept  by  a  young,  handsome,  Anduiusian 
widow,  whose  trim  busquina  of  black  silk  *>  nged 
with  bugles,  set  off  the  play  of  a  graceful  form, 
and  round  pliant  limbs.  Her  step  was  firm  and 
elastic,  her  dark  eye  was  full  of  fire,  and  the 
coquetry  of  her  air,  and  varied  ornaments  of  her 
person  showed  that  she  was  accustomed  to  be 
admired. 

She  was  well  matched  by  a  brother,  nearly  about 
her  own  age;  they  were  perfect  models' of  the  An- 
dalusian  majo  and  maja.  He  was  tall,  vigorous,  and 
well  formed,  with  a  clear,  olive  complexion  a  dark 
beaming  eye,  and  curling,  chestnut  whiskers,  that 
met  under  his  chin.  He  was  gallantly  dressed  in  a 
short  green  velvet  jacket,  fitted  to  his  shape,  pro 
fusely  decorated  with  silver  buttons,  with  a  white 
handkerchief  in  each  pocket.  He  had  breeches  of 
the  same,  with  rows  of  buttons  from  the  hips  to 
the  knees ;  a  pink  silk  handkerchief  round  his  neck, 
gathered  through  a  ring,  on  the  bosom  of  a  neatly 
plaited  shirt ;  a  sash  round  the  waist  to  match ;  bot- 


24  TEE  ALHAMBEA. 

tinas  or  spatterdashes  of  the  finest  russet  leather, 
elegantly  worked  and  open  at  the  calves  to  show 
his  stockings,  and  russet  shoes  setting  off  a  well- 
shaped  foot. 

As  he  was  standing  at  the  door,  a  horseman  rode 
up  and  entered  into  low  and  earnest  conversation 
with  him.  He  was  dressed  in  similar  style,  and 
alrno-it  with  equal  finery.  A  man  about  thirty, 
square  built,  with  strong  Roman  features,  hand 
some,  though  slightly  pitted  with  the  small-pox, 
with  a  free,  bold  and  somewhat  daring  air.  His 
powerful  black  horse  was  decorated  with  tassels 
and  fanciful  trappings,  and  a  couple  of  broad-mouth 
ed  blunderbusses  hung  behind  the  saddle.  He  had 
the  air  of  those  contrabandistas  that  I  have  seen  in 
the  mountains  of  Ronda,  and,  evidently,  had  a  good 
understanding  with  the  brother  of  mine  hostess; 
nay,  if  I  mistake  not,  he  was  a  favourite  admirer  of 
the  widow.  In  fact,  the  whole  inn  and  its  inmates 
had  something  of  a  contrabandista  aspect,  and  the 
blunderbuss  stood  in  a  corner  beside  the  guitar. 
The  horseman  I  have  mentioned,  passed  his  evening 
in  th;  posada,  and  sang  several  bold  mountain  ro 
mances  with  great  spirit. 

A'5  we  were  at  supper,  two  poor  Asturians  put  in 
in  distress,  begging  food  and  a  night's  lodging. 
They  had  been  waylaid  by  robbers  as  they  came 
from  a  fair  among  the  mountains,  robbed  of  a  horse, 
which  carried  all  their  stock  in  trade,  stripped  of 
their  money  and  most  of  their  apparel,  beaten  for 
having  offered  resistance,  and  left  almost  naked  in 
th'i  road.  My  companion,  with  a  prompt  generosity, 
natural  to  him,  ordered  them  a  supper  and  a  bed, 
and  gave  them  a  supply  of  money  to  help  them  for 
ward  towards  their  home, 

As  the  evening  advanced,  the  dramatis  persona? 
'.hickened.  A  large  man,  about  sixty  years  of  age, 
of  powerful  frame,  came  strolling  in,  to  gossip  with 


THE  JOURNEY.  25 

mine  hostess.  He  was  dressed  in  the  ordinary  An- 
dalusian  costume,  but  had  a  huge  sabre  tucked 
under  his  arm,  wore  large  moustaches  and  had 
something  of  a  lofty  swaggering  air.  Every  one 
seemed  to  regard  him  with  great  deference. 

Our  man,  Sancho,  whispered  to  us  that  he  was 
Don  Ventura  Rodriguez,  the  hero  and  champion  of 
Loxa,  famous  for  his  prowess  and  the  strength  of  his 
arm.  In  the  time  of  the  French  invasion,  he  sur 
prised  six  troopers  who  were  asleep.  He  first 
secured  their  horses,  then  attacked  them  with  his 
saure;  killed  some,  and  took  the  rest  prisoner* 
For  this  exploit,  the  king  allows  him  a  peceta,  (the 
fifth  of  a  duro,  or  dollar,)  per  day,  and  has  dignified 
him  with  the  title  of  Don. 

I  was  amused  to  notice  his  swelling  language 
and  demeanour.  He  was  evidently  a  thorough 
AncUlusian,  boastful  as  he  was  brave.  His  sabre 
was  always  in  his  hand,  or  under  his  arm.  He  car  • 
ries  tf  always  about  with  him  as  a  child  does  a 
doll,  calls  it  his  Santa  Teresa,  and  says,  that 
when  he  draws  it,  "  tembla  la  tierra  !  "  (the  earth 
trembles !) 

I  sat  until  a  late  hour  listening  to  the  varied 
themes  ot  this  motley  groupe,  who  mingled  toge 
ther  with  The  unreserve  of  a  Spanish  posada.  We 
had  contrabandista  songs,  stories  of  robbers,  gue 
rilla  exploits,  and  Moorish  legends.  The  last  on«* 
from  our  handsome  landlady,  who  gave  a  poeti 
cal  account  of  the  infiernos,  or  infernal  regions 
of  Loxa  —  dark  caverns,  in  which  subterraneous 
streams  and  waterfalls  make  a  mysterious  sound. 
The  common  people  say  they  are  money  coiners, 
shut  up  there  from  the  time  of  the  Moors,  and  that 
the  Moorish  kings  kept  their  treasures  in  these 
caverns. 

Were  it  the  purport  of  this  work,  I  could  fill  its 
pages  with  the  incidents  and  scenes  of  our  ram- 


26  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

bling  expedition,  but  other  themes  invite  me.  Jour 
neying  in  this  manner,  we  at  length  emerged  from 
the  mountains,  and  entered  upon  the  beautiful 
Vega  of  Granada.  Here  we  took  our  last  mid 
day's  repast  under  a  grove  of  olive  trees,  on  the 
borders  of  a  rivulet,  with  the  old  Moorish  capiteil 
in  the  distance,  dominated  by  the  ruddy  towers  of 
the  Alhambra,  while  far  above  it  the  snowy  sum 
mits  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  shone  like  silver.  The 
day  was  without  a  cloud,  and  the  heat  of  the  sun 
tempered  by  cool  breezes  from  the  mountains  ;  af 
ter  our  repast,  we  spread  our  cloaks  and  took  our 
last  siesta,  lulled  by  the  humming  of  bees  among 
the  flowers,  and  the  notes  of  the  ring  doves  from 
the  neighbouring  olive  trees.  When  the  sultry  hours 
were  past,  we  resumed  our  journey,  and  after  pass 
ing  between  hedges  of  aloes  and  Indian  figs,  and 
through  a  wilderness  of  gardens,  arrived  about  sun 
set  at  the  gates  of  Granada. 


GOVERNMENT 
OF  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

To  the  traveller  imbued  with  a  feeling  for  the  his 
torical  and  poetical,  the  Alhambra  of  Grenada  is  as 
much  an  object  of  veneration  as  is  the  Caaba,  or 
sacred  house  of  Mecca,  to  all  true  Moslem  pilgrims. 
How  many  legend's'land  traditions,  true  and  fabulous, 
how  many  songs  and  romances,  Spanish  and  Ara 
bian,  of  love  and  war  and  chivalry,  are  associated 
with  this  romantic  pile  !  The  reader  may  judge, 
therefore,  of  our  delight,  when,  shortly  after  our  ar 
rival  in  Granada,  the  governor  of  Alhambra  gave  us 
permission  to  occupy  his  vacant  apartments  in  the 
Moorish  palace.  My  companion  was  soon  sum 
moned  away  by  the  duties  of  his  station,  but  I  re 
mained  for  several  months  spell-bound  in  the  old 
enchanted  pile.  The  following  papers  are  the  re 
sult  of  my  reveries  and  researches,  during  that  de 
licious  thraldom.  If  they  have  the  power  of  im 
parting  any  of  the  witching  charms  of  the  place  to 
the  imagination  of  the  reader,  he  will  not  repine 
at  lingering  with  me  for  a  season  in  the  legendary 
halls  of  the  Alhambra. 

THE  Alhambra  is  an  ancient  fortress  or  castel 
lated  palace  of  the  Moorish  kings  of  Granada, 
*vhere  they  held  dominion  over  this  their  coasted 
terrestrial  paradise,  and  made  their  last  stand  for 
empire  in  Spain.  The  palace  occupies  but  a  por 
tion  of  the  fortress,  the  walls  of  which,  studded 
with  towers,  stretch  irregularly  round  the  whole 


28  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

crejt  of  a  lofty  hill  that  overlooks  the  city,  and 
forms  a  spire  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  or  Snowy 
Mountain. 

In  the  time  of  the  Moors,  the  fortress  was  capa 
ble  Gf  containing  an  army  of  forty  thousand  men 
within  its  precincts,  and  served  occasionally  as  a 
atrong-hold  of  the  sovereigns  against  their  rebel 
lious  subjects.  After  the  kingdom  had  passed  into 
the  hands  of  the  Christians,  the  Alhambra  con 
tinued  a  royal  demesne,  and  was  occasionally  in 
habited  by  the  Castilian  monarchs.  The  Emperor 
Charles  V.  began  a  sumptuous  palace  within  its 
walls,'  but  was  deterred  from  completing  it  by 
repeated  shocks  of  earthquakes.  The  last  royal 
residents  were  Philip  V.  and  his  beautiful  Queen 
Elizabetta,  of  Parma,  early  in  the  eighteenth  cen 
tury. 

Great  preparations  were  made  for  their  recep 
tion.  The  palace  and  gardens  were  placed  in  a 
state  of  repair ;  and  a  new  suite  of  apartments 
erected,  and  decorated  by  artists  brought  from 
Italy.  The  sojourn  of  the  sovereigns  was  transient ; 
arid,  after  their  departure,  the  palace  once  more 
became  desolate.  Still  the  place  was  maintained 
with  some  military  state.  The  governor  held  it 
immediately  from  the  crown :  its  jurisdiction  ex 
tended  down  into  the  suburbs  of  the  city,  and  was 
independent  of  the  captain  general  of  Granada.  A 
considerable  garrison  was  kept  up  ;  the  governor 
had  his  apartments  in  the  old  Moorish  palace,  and 
never  descended  into  Granada  without  some  mili 
tary  parade.  The  fortress,  in  fact,  was  a  little  town 
of  itself,  having  several  streets  of  houses  within  its 
walls,  together  with  a  Franciscan  convent  and  a 
parochial  church. 

The  desertion  of  the  court,  however,  was  a  fatal 
blow  to  the  Alhambra.  Its  beautiful  walls  became 
desolate,  and  some  of  them  fell  to  ruin  ;  the  gar- 


GOVERXMEJST  OF  THE  ALHANBRA.    t\) 

dens  were  destroyed,  and  the  fountains  ceased  to 
[•lay.  By  degrees  the  dwellings  became  filled  up 
with  a  loose  and  lawless  population  ;  cohtrabandis- 
lat,  who  availed  themselves  of  its  independent  ju- 
risdk  tion,  to  carry  on  a  wide  and  daring  course  of 
smuggling,  and  thieves  and  rogues  of  all  sorts,  who 
made  this  their  place  of  refuge,  from  whence  they 
might  depredate  upon  Granada  and  its  vicinity. 
The  strong  arm  of  government  at  length  interposed. 
The  whole  community  was  thoroughly  sifted  ;  none 
were  suffered  to  remain  but  such"  as  were  of  honest 
character  and  had  legitimate  right  to  a  residence ; 
the  greater  part  of  the  houses  were  demolished, 
and  a  mere  hamlat  left,  with  the  parochial  church 
and  the  Franciscan  convent. 

During  the  recent  troubles  in  Spain,  when  Gra 
nada  was  in  the  hands  of  the  French,  the  Alham- 
bra  was  garrisoned  by  their  troops,  and  the  palace 
was  occasionally  inhabited  by  the  French  comman 
der.  With  that  enlightened  taste  which  has  ever 
distinguished  the  French  nation  in  their  conquests, 
this  monument  oi  Moorish  elegance  and  grandeur 
was  rescued  from  the  absolute  ruin  and  desolation 
that  were  overwhelming  it.  The  roofs  were  re 
paired,  the  saloons  and  galleries  protected  from 
the  weather,  the  gardens  cultivated,  the  water 
courses  restored,  the  fountains  once  more  made  to 
throw  up  their  sparKling  showers  :  and  Spain  may 
thank  her  invaders  for  having  preserved  to  her  the 
most  beautiful  and  interesting  of  her  historical  mon 
uments. 

On  the  departure  of  the  French,  they  blew  up 
several  towers  of  the  outer  wall,  and  left  the  iortili.- 
cations  scarcely  tenable.  Since  that  time,  the  mili 
tary  importance  of  the  post  is  at  an  end.  The  gar 
rison  is  a  handful  of  invalid  soldiers,  whose  princi 
pal  duty  is  U  guard  some  of  the  outer  towers, 
which  serve,  occasionally,  as  a  prison  of  state  ;  and 


80  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

the  governor,  abandoning  the  lofty  hill  of  the  Alham- 
bra,  resides  in  the  centre  of  Granada,  for  the  more 
convenient  despatch  of  his  official  duties.  I  can 
not  conclude  this  brief  notice  of  the  state  of  the 
fortress,  without  bearing  testimony  to  the  honour 
able  exertions  of  its  present  commander,  Don  Fran 
cisco  de  Salis  Serna,  who  is  tasking  all  the  limited 
resources  at  his  command,  to  put  the  palace  in  a 
state  of  repair;  and  by  his  judicious  precautions 
has  for  some  time  arrested  its  too  certain  decay. 
Had  his  predecessors  discharged  the  duties  of  their 
station  with  equal  fidelity,  the  Alhambra  might  yet 
have  remained  in  almost  its  pristine  beauty  ;  were 
government  to  second  him  with  means  equal  to  his 
zeal,  this  edifice  might  still  be  preserved  to  adorn  the 
land,  and  to  attract  the  curious  and  enlightened  ot 
every  clime,  for  many  generations. 


INTERIOR  ". 
OF  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

THE  Alhambra  has  been  so  often  and  so  minutely 
described  by  travellers,  that  a  mere  sketch  will 
probably  be  sufficient  for  the  reader  to  refresh  his 
recollection  ;  I  will  give,  therefore,  a  brief  account 
of  our  visit  to  it  the  morning  after  our  arrival  in 
Granada. 

Leaving  our  posada  of  La  Espada,  we  traversed 
the  renowned  square  of  the  Vivarrambla,  once  the 
scene  of  Moorish  jousts  and  tournaments,  now  a 
crowded  market  place.  From  thence  we  proceeded 
along  the  Zacatin,  the  main  street  of  what  was  the 
great  Bazaar,  in  the  time  of  the  Moors,  where  the 
small  shops  and  narrow  alleys  stiil  retain  their  Ori 
ental  character.  Crossing  an  open  place  in  front 
of  the  palace  of  the  captain-general,  we  ascended  a 
confined  and  winding  street,  the  name  of  which 
reminded  us  of  the  chivalric  days  of  Granada.  It 
is  called  the  Calle,  or  street  of  the  Gomeres  :  from  a 
Moorish  family,  famous  in  chronicle  and  song.  This 
street  led  up  to  a  mansion  gateway  of  Grecian  archi 
tecture,  built  by  Charles  V.,  forming  the  entrance  to 
the  domains  of  the  Alhambra. 

At  the  gate  were  two  or  three  ragged  arid  super 
annuated  soldiers  dozing  on  a  stone  bench,  the  suc 
cessors  of  the  Zegris  and  the  Abencejjages  ;  while 
a  tall,  meagre  "^ppftt,  whose  rusty  brown  cloak  was, 
evidently,  intended  to  conceal  the  ragged  state  of 
his  nether  garments,  was  lounging  in  the  sunshine, 


32  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

and  gossipping  with  an  ancient  sentinel,  on  duty.  He 
joined  us  as  we  entered  the  gate,  and  offered  his 
services  to  show  us  the  fortress. 

I  have  a  traveller's  dislike  to  officious  ciceroni,  and 
did  not  altogether  like  the  garb  of  the  applicant : 

"  You  are  well  acquainted  with  the  place,  I  pre 
sume  ?  " 

"  Ninguno  mas — pues,  sefior,  soy  hijo  de  la  Al 
hambra." 

(Nobody  better — in  fact,  sir,  I  am  a  son  of  the 
Alhambra.) 

The  common  Spaniards  have  certainly  a  most 
poetical  way  of  expressing  themselves — "  A  son  of 
the  Alhambra  :  "  the  appellation  caught  me  at  once  ; 
the  very  tattered  garb  of  my  new  acquaintance  as 
sumed  a  dignity  in  my  eyes.  It  was  emblematic  o< 
the  features  of  the  place,  and  became  the  progeny 
of  a  ruin. 

I  put  some  farther  questions  to  him,  and  found  his 
title  was  legitimate.  His  family  had  lived  in  the 
fortress  from  generation  to  generation  ever  since  the 
time  of  the  conquest.  His  name  was  Mateo  Xim- 
cnes.  "Then,  perhaps,"  said  I,  "you  may^be  a 
descendant  from  the  great  Cardinal  Ximenes." 

"  Dios  sabe !  God  knows,  senor.  It  may  be  so. 
We  are  the  oldest  family  in  the  Alhambra.  Vtejos 
Cristianos,  old  Christians,  without  any  taint  of  Moor 
or  Jew.  I  know  we  belong  to  some  great  family  or 
other,  but  I  forget  who.  My  father  knows  all  about 
it.  He  has  the  coat  of  arms  hanging  up  in  his  cot 
tage,  up  in  the  fortress." — There  is  never  a  Spaniard, 
however  poor,  but  has  some  claim  to  high  pedigree. 
The  first  title  of  this  ragged  worthy,  however,  had 
completely  captivated  me,  so  I  gladly  accepted  the 
services  of  the  "  son  of  the  Alhambra." 

We  now  found  ourselves  in  a  deeg  -iarrow  ravine, 
filled  with  beautiful  groves,  with  a  steep  avenue  and 
various  foot-paths  winding  through  it,  bordered  with 


INTERIOR  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA.       33 

stone  seats  and  ornamented  with  fountains.  To 
our  left,  we  beheld  the  towers  of  the  Alhambra 
beetling  above  us  ;  to  our  right,  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  ravine,  we  were  equally  dominated  by 
rival  towers  on  a  rocky  eminence.  These,  we  were 
told,  were  the  Torres  Vermejos,  or  Vermilion 
?o\vc'.r3,  so  called  from  their  ruddy  hue.  No  one 
knows  their  origin.  They  are  of  a  date  much  an 
terior  to  the  Alhambra.  Some  suppose  them  to  have 
been  built  by  the  Romans  ;  others,  by  some  wander 
ing  colony  of  rV.crucip.ri3.  Ascending  the  steep  and 
shady  avenue,  we  arrived  at  the  foot  of  a  huge  square 
Moorish  tower,  forming  a  kind  of  barbican,  through 
which  passed  the  main  entrance  to  the  fortress. 
Within  the  barbican  was  another  groupe  of  veteran 
invalids,  one  mounting  guard  at  the  portal,  while 
the  rest,  wrapped  in  their  tattered  cloaks,  slept  on 
the  stone  benches.  This  portal  is  called  the  Gate 
of  Justice,  from  the  tribunal  held  within  its  porch 
during  the  Moslem  domination,  for  the  immediate 
trial  oc  petty  causes  ;  a  ciibtom  common  to  the  Ori 
ental  nations,  and  occasionally  alluded  to  in  the 
sacred  Scriptures. 

"  The  great  vestibule,  or  porch  of  the  gate,  is  formed 
Dy  an  immense  Arabian  arch  of  the  horseshoe  form, 
•vhich  springs  to  half  the  height  of  the  tower.  On 
the  key-stone  of  this  arch  is  engraven  a  gigantic 
hand.,  Within  the  vestibule,  on  the  key-stone  of  the 
portal,  is  engraven,  in  like  manner,  a  gigantic  key. 
Those  who  pretend  to  some  knowledge  of  Mahometan 
symbols,  affirm,  that  the  hand  is  the  emblem  of  doc 
trine,  and  the  key,  of  faith  ;  the  latter,  they  add,  was 
emblazoned  on  the  standard  of  the  Moslems  when 
they  subdued  Andalusia,  in  opposition  to  the  Chris 
tian  emblem  of  the  cross.  A  different  explanation, 
however,  was  given  -by  the  legitimate  "son  of  the 
Alhambra,"  and  one  more  in  unison  with  the  notions 
of  the  common  people,  who  attach  something  of 


mystery  and  magic  to  every  thing  Moorisn,  anu 
have  all  kinds  of  superstitions  connected  with  this 
old  Moslem  fortress. 

According  to  Mateo,  it  was  a  tradition  handed 
down  from  the  oldest  inhabitants,  and  which  he  had 
from  his  father  and  grandfather,  that  the  hand  and 
4cey  were  magical  devices  on  which  the  fate  of  the 
'Alhambra  depended.  The  Moorish  king  who  built 
it  was  a  great  magician,  and,  as  some  believed,  had 
sold  himself  to  the  devil,  and  had  laid"  the  whole 
fortress  under  a  magic  spell.  By  this  means  it  hail 
remained  standing  for  several  hundred  years,  in  de- 
Sance  of  storms  and  earthquakes,  while  almost  all 
the  other  buildings  of  the  'Moors  had  fallen  ro  iuin 
*ncl  disappeared.  The  spell,  the  tradition  >•%•«<,' <in 
to  say,  would  last  until  the  hand  on  the  cuter  arch 
should  reach  down  aitd  grasp  the  key,  when  the" 
whole  pile  would  tumble  to  pieces,  and  all  the 
treasures  buried  beneath  it  by  the  Moors  would  be 
revealed. 

Notwithstanding  this  ominous  prediction,  we  ven 
tured  to  pass  through  the  spell-bound  gateway,  feel 
ing  some  little  assurance  against  magic  art  in  the. 
protection  of  the  Virgin,  a  statue  of  whom  we  o,b- 
served  above  the  portal. 

After  passing  through  the  Barbican,  we  ascended 
a  narrow  lane,  winding  between  walls,  and  came  on 
an  open  esplanade  within  the  fortress,  called  the 
Plaza  de  los  Algibes,  or  Place  of  the  Cisterns,  from 
great  reservoirs  which  undermine  it,  cut  in  the  living 
rock  by  the  Moors,  for  the  supply  of  the  fortress. 
Here,  also,  is  a  well  of  immense  depth,  furnishing 
the  purest  and  coldest  of  water,— another  monument 
of  the  delicate  taste  of  the  Moors,  who  were  inde 
fatigable  in  their  exertions  to  obtain  that  element  in 
its  crystal  purity. 

In  front  of  this  esplanr.de  is  the  splendid  pib, 
commenced  by  Charles  V.,  intended,  it  is  snid,  to 


,   IXTEltl'OR  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA.        25 

eciujse  the  residence  of  the  Moslem  kings.  With 
all  ici  grandeur  and  architectural  merit,  it  appeared 
to  Us  like  an  arrogant  intrusion,  and  passing  by  it 
we  entered  a  simple  unostentatious  portal^  opening 
into  the  interior  of  the  Moorish  palace. 

The  transition  was  almost  magical ;  it  seemed  as 
if  we  were  at  once  transported  into  other  times  and 
another  realm,  and  were  treacling  the  scenes  of 
Arabian  story.,  We  found  ourselves  in  a  great  court 
paved  with  white  marble' and  decorated  at  each  end 
with  light  Moorish  peristyles.  It  is  called  the  court 
of  the  Alberca.  In  the  centre  was  an  immense 
basin,  or  fish-pool,  a  hundred  and  thirty  feet  in 
length,  by  thirty  in  breadth,  stocked  with  gold-fish, 
and  bordered  by  hedges  of  roses.  At  the  upper  end 
•of  this  court,  rose  the  great  tower  of  Comares. 

From  the  lower  end,  we  passed  through  a  Moor 
ish  arch-way  into  .the  renowned  Court  of  Lions. 
There  is  no  part  of  the  edifice  that  gives  us  a  more 
complete  idea  of  its  original  beauty  and  magnifi 
cence  than  this;  for  none  has  suffered  so  little  from 
the  ravages  of  time.  In  the  centre  stands  the  foun 
tain  famous  in  song  and  story.  The  alabaster  ba 
sins  still  shed  their  diamond  drops,  and  the  twelve 
lions  which  support  them,  cast  forth  their  crystal 
streams  as  in  the  days  of  Boabdil.  The  court  is 
laid  out  in  flower  beds,  and  surrounded  by  light 
Arabian  arcades  of  open  filigree  work,  supported  by 
slender  pillars  of  white  marble.  The  architecture, 
like  that  of  all  the  other  parts  of  the  palace,  is  char 
acterized  by  elegance,  rather  than  grandeur,  be 
speaking  a  delicate  and  graceful  taste,  and  a  dispo 
sition  to  indolent  enjoyment.  When  we  look  upon 
the  fairy  tracery  of  the  peristyles,  and  the  appar 
ently  fragile  fret-work  of  the  walls,  it  is  difficult  to 
believe  that  so  much  has  survived  the  wear  and  ten 
of  centuries,  the  shocks  of  earthquakes,  the  violence 
of  war,  and  the  quiet,  though  no  less  baneful,  pilfer- 


36  THE  ALHAMEEA. 

ings  of  the  tasteful  traveller.  It  is  almost  sufficient 
to  excuse  the  popular  tradition,  that'  the  whole  is 
protected  by  a  magic  charm, 

On  one  side  of  the  court,  a  portal  ncnly  adorned 
opens  into-a  lofty  hall  paved  with  white  marble,  and 
called  the  Hall  of  the  '\vo  Sisters.  A  cupola  or 
lantern  admits  a  tempered  fight  from  above,  and  a 
f  ee  circulation  of  air.  The  lower  part  of  the  walls 
ii  ir crusted  with  beautiful  Moorish  tiles,  on  some  oi 
which  are  emblazoned  the  escutcheons  of- the  Moor 
ish  monarchs :  the  upper  part  is  faced  with  the  fine 
stucco  work  invented  at  Damascus,  consisting  cl 
large  plates  cast  in  moulds  and  artfully  joined.  >o  as 
lo  have  the  appearance  cf  having  been  hbor!c'ir^ 
sculptured  by  the  hand  into  light  relievos  and  fanci 
ful  arabesques,  intermingled  with  texts  of  the  Koran, 
and  poetical  inscriptions  in  Arabian  and  Celtic  char 
acters.  These  decorations  of  the  walls  and  cupolas 
are  richly  gilded,  and  the  interstices  panelled  with 
lapis  lazuli  and  other  brilliant  and  enduring  colours. 
On  each  slide  of  the  wall  are  recesses  for  ottomans 
and  arches.  Above  an  inner  porch,  is  a  balcony 
which  communicated  with  the. women's  apartment. 
The  latticed  balconies  still  remain,  from  whence  the 
dark-eyed  beauties  of  the  harem  might  gaze  unseen 
upon  the  entertainments  of  the  hall  below. 

it  is  impossible  to  contemplate  this  once  favourite 
abode  of  Oriental  manners,  without  feeling  the  early 
associations  of  Arabian  romance,  and  almost  ex 
pecting  to  see  the  white  arm  of  some  mysterious 
princess  beckoning  from  the  balcony,  or  some  dark 
eye  sparkling  through  the  km  ice.  The  abode  of 
beauty  is  here,  as  if  it  had  bc;jn  inhabited  but  yes 
terday —  but  where  are  the  Zoraydas  and  Linde- 
raxas  ! 

v  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  court  of  Lions,  is  the 
hall  of  the  Abencerrages/so  called  from  the  gallant 
cavaliers  of  that  illustrious  line,  who  were  here  per- 


l&TERl-Qa  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA.       87 

ficliously  massacred.  There  are  some  who  doubt 
the  whole  truth  of  this  story,  but  our  humble  at 
tendant,  Mateo,  pointed  out  the  very  wicket  of  the 
portal  through  which  they  are  said  to  have  been  in 
troduced,  one  by  one,  and  the  white  marble  fountain 
in  the  centre  of  the  hall,  where  they  were  beheaded. 
He  showed  us  also  certain  broad  ruddy  stains  in  the 
pavement,  traces  of  their  blood,  which,  according 
to  popular  belief,  can  never  be  effaced.  Finding-  we 
listened  to  him  with  easy  faith,  he  added,  that  there 
was  often  heard  at  night,  in  the  Court  of  the  Lions, 
a  low  confused  sound,  resembling  the  murmurings 
of  a  multitude  ;  with  now  and  then  a  faint  tinkling, 
like  the  distant  clank  of  chains.  These  noises  are 
probably  produced  by  the  bubbling  currents  and 
tinkling  falls  of  water,  conducted  under  the  pave 
ment  through  pipes  and  channels  to  supply  the  foun 
tains  ;  but  according  to  the  legend  of  the  son  of  the 
Alhambra,  they  are  made  by  the  spirits  of  the  mur 
dered  Abencerrages,  who  nightly  haunt  the  scene  of 
their  suffering,  and  invoke  the  vengeance  of  Heaven 
on  their  destroyer. 

From  the  Court  of  Lions,  we  retraced  our  steps 
through  the  court  of  the  Alberca,  or  great  fish-pool, 
crossing  which,  we  proceeded  to  the  tower  of  Co- 
mares,  so  called  from  the  name  of  the  Arabian 
architect.  It  is  of  massive  strength,  and  lofty 
height,  domineering  over  the  rest  of  the  edifice,  and 
overhanging  the  steep  hill-side,  which  descends  ab- 
rupily  to  the  banks  of  the  Darro.  A  Moorish  arch 
way  admitted  us  into  a  vast  and  lofty  hall,  which 
occupies  the  interior  of  the  tower,  and  was  the 
grand  audience  chamber  of  the  Moslem  monarchs, 
thence  called  the  hall  of  Ambassadors.  It  still  bears 
the  traces  of  past  magnificence.  The  walls  are 
richly  stuccoed  and  decorated  with  arabesques,  the 
vaulted  ceilings  of  cedar  wood,  almost  lost  in  ob 
scurity  from  its  height,  still  gleam  with  rich  gilding 


£8  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

and  the  brilliant  tints  of  the  Arabian  pencil.  On 
three  sides  of  the  saloon,  are  deep  windows,  cut 
through  the  immense  thickness  of  the  walls,  the 
balconies  of  which,  looking  clown  upon  the  verdant 
vallty  ^f  the  Darro,  the  streets  and  convents  of  the 
Aibaycin,  and  command  a  prospect  of  the  distant 
Vega.  I  might  go  on  to  describe  the  other  delight 
ful  apartments  of  this  side  of  the  palace  ;  the  To- 
cador  or  toilet  of  the  Queen,  an  open  belvedere  on 
the  summit  of  the  tower,  where  the  Moorish^  sultanas 
enjoyed  the  pure  breezes  from  the  mountain  and  the 
prospect  of  the  surrounding  paradise.  The  secluded 
little  patio  or  garden  of  Lindaraxa,  with  its  alabaster 
fountain,  its  thickets  of  roses  and  inyitles,  of  citrons 
and  oranges.  The  cool  halls  and  grcttoes  of  the 
baths,  where  the  glare  and  heat  of  day  are  tempered 
into  a  self-mysterious  light  and  a  pervading  fresh 
ness.  But  I  appear  to  dwell  minutely  on  these 
scenes.  My  object  is  merely  to  give  the  reader  a 
general  introduction  into  an  abode,  where,  if  dis 
posed,  he  may  linger  and  loiter  with  me  through 
the  remainder  of  this  work,  gradually  becoming 
familiar  with  all  its  beauties. 

An  abundant  supply  of  water,  brought  from  the 
mountains  by  old  Moorish  aqueducts,  circulates 
throughout  the  palace,  supplying  its  baths  and  fish- 
pools,  sparkling  in  jets  within  its  halls,  or  murmur 
ing  in  channels  along  the  marble  pavements.  When 
it  has  paid  its  tribute  to  the  royal  pile,  and  visited  '  ., 
gardens  and  pastures,  it  flows  down  the  long  avv.;.ae 
leading  to  the  city,  tinkling  in  rills,  gushing  in  foun 
tains,  and  maintaining  a  perpetual  verdure  in  those 
groves  that  embower  and  beautify  the  whole  hiil  of 
the  Aihambra. 

Those,  only,  who  have  sojourned  in  the  ardent 
climates  of  the  South,  can  appreciate  the  delights 
of  an  abode  combining  Lie  breezy  coolness  of  the 


INTERIOR  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA.       39 

mountain   with   the  freshness  and  verdure  of  the 
valley. 

While  the  city  below  pants  with  the  noon-tide 
heat,  and  the  parched  Vega  trembles  to  the  eye,  the 
delicate  airs  from  the  Sierra  Nevada  play  through 
the  lofty  halls,  bringing  with  them  the  sweetness  of 
the  surrounding  gardens.  Every  thing  invites  to 
that  indolent  repose,  the  bliss  of  Southern  climes  ; 
and  while  the  half-shut  eye  looks  out  from  shaded 
balconies  upon  the  glittering  landscape,  the  ear  is 
lulled  by  the  rustling  of  groves,  and  the  murmur  of 
running  streams. 


THE 
TOWER  OF  CO  MARES. 

THE  reader  has  had  a  sketch  of  the  interior  ot  the 
Alnambra,  and  may  be  desirous  of  a  general  idea 
of  its  vicinity.  The  morning  is  serene  and  lovely; 
the  sun  has  not  gained  sufficient  power  to  destroy 
the  freshness  of  the  night ;  we  will  mount  to  the 
summit  of  the  tower  of  Comares,  and  take  a  bird's- 
eye  view  of  Granada  and  its  environs. 

'  Come,  then,  worthy  reader  and  comrade,  follow 
my  steps  into  this  -vestibule  ornamented  with  rich 
tracery,  which  opens  to  the  hall  of  Ambassadors. 
We  will  not  enter  the  hall,  however,  but  turn  to  the 
left,  to  this  small  door,  opening  in  the  wall.  Have  a 
care  !  here  are  steep  winding  steps  and  but  scanty 
light.  Yet,  up  this  narrow,  obscure  and  winding 
staircase,  the  proud  monarchs  of  Granada  and  their 
queens  have  often  ascended  to  the  battlements  of  the 
tower  to  watch  the  approach  of  Christian  armies; 
or  to  gaze  on  the  battles  in  the  Vega.  At  length  we 
are  upon  the  terraced  roof,  and  may  take  breath  for 
a  moment,  while  we  cast  a  general  eye  over  the 
splendid  panorama  of  city  and  country,  of  rocky 
mountain,  verdant  valley  and  fertile  plain  ;  of  castle, 
cathedral,  Moorish  towers  and  Gothic  domes,  train* 
bling  ruins  and  blooming  groves. 

Let  us  approach  the  battlements  and  cast  cur  eyes 
immediately  below.  See, — on  this  side  we  have  the 
whole  plan  of  the  Alhambra  laid  open  to  us,  and 
can  look  clown  into  its  courts  and  gardens.  At  the 


THE  TO  WEE  OF  COMARES.  41 

foot  of  the  tower  is  the  Court  of  the  Alberca  with  its 
great  tank  or  fish-pool  bordered  with  flowers ;  and 
yonder  is  the  Court  of  Lions,  with  its  famous  foun 
tain,  and  its  light  Moorish  arcades  ;  and  in  the  cen- 
rre  of  the  pile  is  the  little  garden  of  Lindaraxa, 
Buried  in  the  heart  of  the  building",  with  its  roses 
t-jd  citrons  and  shrubbery  of  emerald  green. 

That  belt  of  battlements  studded  with  square 
towers,  straggling  round  the  whole  brow  of  the  hill, 
is  the  outer  boundary  of  the  fortress.  Some  of  the 
to'vers,  you  may  perceive,  are  in  ruins,  and  their 
massive  fragments  are  buried  among  vines,  fig-trees 
and  ak)es. 

LeHifi  look  on  this  northern  side  of  the  tower.  It 
is  a  giddy  height ;  the  very  foundations  of  the  tower 
rise  above  the  groves  of  the  steep  hill-side.  And  see, 
a  long  fissure  in  the  massive  walls  shows  that  the 
tower  has  been  rent  by  some  of  the  earthquakes, 
which  from  time  to  time  have  thrown  Granada  into 
consternation  ;  and  which,  sooner  or  later,  must  re 
duce  this  crumbling  pile  to  a  mere  mass  of  ruin. 
The  deep  narrow  glen  below  us,  which  gradually 
widens  as  it  opens  from  the  mountains,  is  the  valley 
of  the  Darro  ;  you  see  the  little  river  winding  its  way 
under  embowered  terraces,  and  among  orchards  and 
flower  gardens.  It  is  a  stream  famous  in  old  times 
for  yielding  gold,  and  its  sands  are  still  sifted,  occa 
sionally,  in  search  of  the  precious  ore. 

Some  of  those  white  pavilions  which  here  and 
there  gleam  from  among  groves  and  vineyards,  were 
rustic  retreats  of  the  Moors,  to  enjoy  the  refreshment 
of  their  gardens. 

The  airy  palace  with  its  tall  white  towers  and  long 
arcades,  which  breast  yon  mountain,  among  pomp 
ous  groves  and  hanging  gardens,  is  the  Generaliffe,  a 
summer  palace  of  the  Moorish  kings,  to  which  they 
resorted -during  the  sultry  months,  to  enjoy  a  still 
more  breezy  region  than  that  of  the  Alhambra.  The 


42  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

naked  summit  of  the  height  above  it,  where  you  be 
hold  some  shapeless  ruins,  is  tBe  Silla  del  Moro,  or 
seat  of  the  Moor ;  so  called  from  having  been  a  re 
treat  of  the  unfortunate  Boabdil,  during  the  time  of. 
an  insurrection,  where  he  seated  himself  and  looked 
down  mournfully  upon  his  rebellious  city. 

A  murmuring  sound  of  water  now  and  then  rises 
from  the  valley.  It  is  from  the  aqueduct  of  yon 
Moorish  mill  nearly  at  the  foot  of  the  hill.  The  ave 
nue  of  trees  beyond,  is  the  Alameda  along  the  bank 
of  the  Darro,  a  favourite  resort  in  evenings,  and  a 
rendezvous  of  lovers  in  the  summer  nights,  when  the 
guitar  may  be  heard  at  a  late  hour  from  the  benches 
along  its  walks.  At  present  there  are  but  a  few 
loitering  monks  to  be  seen  there,  and  a  group  of 
water  carriers  from  the  fountain  of  Avellanos. 

You  start  !  'Tis  nothing  but  a  hawk  we  have 
frightened  from  his  nest.  This  old  tower  is  a  com 
plete  brooding-place  for  vagrant  birds.  The  swal 
low  and  martlet  abound  in  every  chink  and  cranny, 
and  circle  about  it  the  whole  day  long ;  while  at 
night,  when  all  other  birds  have  gone  to  rest,  the 
moping  owl  comes  out  of  its  lurking  place,  and  ut 
ters  its  boding  cry  from  the  battlements.  See  how 
the  hawk  we  have  dislodged  sweeps  away  below  us, 
skimming  over  the  tops  of  the  trees,  and  sailing  up 
to  ruins  above  the  Generaliffe. 

Let  us  leave  this  side  of  the  tower  and  turn  our 
eyes  to  the  west.  Here  you  behold  in  the  distance 
a  range  of  mountains  bounding  the  Vega,  the  ancient 
barrier  between  Moslem  Granada  and  the  land  of 
the  Christians.  Among  the  heights  you  may  still 
discern  warrior  towns,  whose  gray  walls  and  battle 
ments  seem  of  a  piece  with  the  rocks  on  which  they 
r/re  built ;  while  here  and  there  is  a  solitary  atalaya 
or  watch-tower,  mounted  on  some  lofty  point,  and 
looking  down  as  ii  it  were  from  the  sky,  into  the  val 
leys  on  either  side.  It  was  down  the  defiles  of  these 


THE  TOWER  OF  COMAEES.  43 

mountains,  by  the  pass  of  Lope,  that  the  Christian 
armies  descended  into  the  Vega.  It  was  round  the 
base  of  yon  gray  snd  naked  mountain,  almost  insu 
lated  from  the  rest,  and  stretching  its  ba  i  rocky  pro« 
montory  into  the  bosom  of  the  plain,  that  the  invad 
ing  squadrons  would  come  bursting  into  view,  with 
flaunting  banners  and  the  clangour  of  drums  and 
trumpets.  How  changed  is  the  scene  !  Instead  cf 
the  glittering  line  of  mailed  warriors,  we  behold  the 
patient  train  of  the  toilful  muleteer,  slowly  moving 
along  the  skirts  of  the  mountain. 

Behind  that  promontory,  is  the  eventful  bridge  of 
Pinos,  renowned  for  many  a  bloody  strife  between 
Moors  and  Christians ;  but  still  more  renowned  as 
being  the  place  where  Columbus  was  overtaken  and 
called  back  by  the  messenger  of  Queen  Isabella,  just 
as  he  was  departing  in  despair  to  carry  his  project 
of  discovery  to  the  court  of  France. 

Behold  another  place  famous  in  the  history  of  the 
discoverer :  yon  line  of  walls  and  towers,  gleaming 
in  the  morning  sun  in  the  very  centre  of  the  Vega  ; 
the  city  of  Santa  Fe,  built  by  the  Catholic  sovereigns 
during  the  siege  of  Granada,  after  a  conflagration  had 
destroyed  their  camp.  It  was  to  these  walls  that 
Columbus  was  called  back  by  the  heroic  queen,  and 
within  them  the  treaty  was  concluded  that  led  to  the 
discovery  of  the  Western  World. 

Here,  towards  the  south,  the  eye  revels  on  the 
luxuriant  beauties  of  the  Vega ;  a  blooming  wilder 
ness  of  grove  and  garden,  and  teeming  o~?hard  ; 
with  the  Xenil  winding  through  it  in  silver  links 
and  feeding  innumerable  rills,'  conducted  through 
ancient  Moorish  channels,  which  maintain  the  land 
scape  in  perpetual  verdure.  Here  are  the  beloved 
bowers  and  gardens,  and  rural  retreats  for  which  the 
Moors  fought  with  such  desperate  valour.  The  very 
farm-houses  and  hovels  which  are  now  inhabited  by 
t  ic  boors,  retain  traces  of  arabesques  and  other 


44  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

tasteful  decorations,  which  show  them  to  have  been 
elegant  residences  in  the  days  of  the  Moslems. 

Beyond  the  embowered  reg;on  of  the  Vega  you 
behold,  to  the  south,  a  line  of  arid  hills  down  which 
a  long  train  of  mules  is  slowly  moving.  It  was  from 
the  summit  of  one  of  those  hills  that  the  unfortunate 
Boabdil  cast  back  his  last  look  upon  Granada  and 
gave  vent  to  the  agony  of  his  soul.  It  is  the  spot 
famous  in  song  and  story,  "  The  last  sigh  of  the 
Moor." 

Now  raise  your  eyes  to  the  snowy  summit  of  yon 
pile  of  mountains,  shining  like  a  white  summer  cloud 
on  the  blue  sky.  It  is  the  Sierra  Nevada,  the  pride 
and  delight  of  Granada ;  the  source  of  her  cooling 
breezes  and  perpetual  verdure,  of  her  gushing  foun 
tains  and  perennial  streams.  It  is  this  glorious  pile 
of  mountains  that  gives  to  Granada  that  combina 
tion  of  delights  so  rare  in  a  southern  city.  The 
fresh  vegetation,  and  the  temperate  airs  of  a 
northern  climate,  with  the  vivifying  ardour  of  a 
tropical  sun,  and  the  cloudless  azure  of  a  southern 
sky.  It  is  this  aerial  treasury  of  snow,  which,  melt 
ing  in  proportion  to  the  increase  of  the  summer  heat, 
sends  down  rivulets  and  streams  through  every  glen 
and  gorge  of  the  Alpuxarras,:  diffusing  emerald  ver 
dure  and  fertility  throughout  a  chain  of  happy  and 
sequestered  valleys. 

These  mountains  may  well  be  called  the  glory  of 
Granada.  They  dominate  the  whole  extent  of  An 
dalusia,  and  may  be  seen  from  its  most  distant  parts. 
The  muleteer  hails  them  as  he  views  their  frosty 
peaks  from  the  sultry  level  of  the  plain  ;  and  the 
Spanish  manner  on  the  deck  of  his  bark,  far,  far  off, 
on  the  bosom  of  the  blue  Mediterranean,  watches 
them  with  a  pensive  eye,  thinks  of  delightful  Grana 
da,  and  chants  in  low  voice  some  old  romance  about 
the  Moors. 

But  enough,  the  sun  is  high  above  the  mountains, 


THE  TOWER  OF  CO  MARES.  45 

and  is  pouring  his  full  fervour  upon  our  heads.  Al 
ready  the  terraced  roof  of  the  town  is  ho*  beneath 
our  feet .  let  us  abandon  it,  and  descend  and  refresh 
ourselves  under  the  arcades  by  the  fountain  of  the 
Lions. 


REFLECTIONS  ON 

THE  MOSLEM  DOMINA^ 

TION  IN  SPAIN. 

ONE  of  my  favourite  resorts  is  the  balcony  of  the 
central  window  of  the  Hall  of  Ambassadors,  in  the 
lofty  tower  of  Comarcs.  I  have  just  been  seated 
there,  enjoying  the  close  of  a  long  brilliant  day. 
The  sun,  as  he  sank  behind  the  purple  mountains 
of  Alhama,  sent  a  stream  of  effulgence  up  the  valley 
of  the  Darro,  that  spread  a  melancholy  pomp  over 
the  ruddy  towers  of  the  Alhambra,  while  the  Vega, 
covered  with  a  slight  sultry  vapour  that  caught  the 
setting  ray,  seemed  spread  out  in  the  distance  like  a 
golden  sea.  Not  a  breath  of  air  disturbed  the  still 
ness  of  the  hour,  and  though  the  faint  sound  of  music 
and  merriment  now  and  then  arose  from  the  gardens 
of  the  Darro,  it  but  rendered  more  impressive  the 
monumental  silence  of  the  pile  which  overshadowed 
me.  It  was  one  of  those  hours  and  scenes  in  which 
memory  asserts  an  almost  magical  power,  and,  like 
the  evening  sun  beaming  on  these  mouldering  towers, 
sends  back  her  retrospective  rays  to  light  up  the 
glories  of  the  past. 

As  I  sat  watching  the  effect  of  the  declining  day 
light  upon  this  Moorish  pile,  I  was  led  into  a  con 
sideration  of  the  light,  elegant  and  voluptuous  char 
acter  prevalent  throughout  its  internal  architecture, 
and  to  contrast  it  with  the  grand  but  gloomy  solem 
nity  of  the  Gothic  edifices,  reared  by  the  Spanish 
conquerors.  The  veiy  architecture  thus  bespeaks 
the  opposite  and  irreconcilable  natures  of  the  two 


MOSLEM  D  0  J/7..M1  77  OT  /T  SPA  /-A"!      47 

warlike  people,  who  so  long  battled  here  for  the 
mastery  of  the  Peninsula.  By  degrees  I  fell  into  a 
course  of  musing  upon  the  singular  features  of  the 
Arabian  or  Morisco  Spaniards,  whose  whole  exist 
ence  is  as  a  tale  that  is  told,  and  certainly  forms  one 
of  the  most  anomalous  yet  splendid  episodes  in  his 
tory.  Potent  and  durable  as  was  their  dominion,  we 
have  no  one  distinct  title  by  which  to  designate  them. 
They  were  a  nation,  as  it  were,  without  a  legitimate 
country  or  a  name.  A  remote  wave  of  the  great 
Arabian  inundation,  cast  upon  the  shores  of  Europe, 
they  seemed  to  have  all  the  impetus  of  the  first  rush 
of  the  torrent.  Their  course  of  conquest  from  the 
rock  of  Gibraltar  to  the  cliffs  of  the  Pyrenees,  was  as 
rapid  and  brilliant  as  the  Moslem  victories  of  Syria 
and  Egypt.  Nay,  had  they  not  been  checked  on  the 

Elains  of  Tours,  all  France,  all  Europe,  might  have 
een  overrun  with  the  same  facility  as  the  empires 
of  the  east,  and  the  crescent  might  at  this  day  have 
glittered  on  the  fanes  of  Paris  and  of  London. 

Repelled  within  the  limits  of  the  Pyrenees,  the 
mixed  hordes  of  Asia  and  Africa  that  formed  this 
great  irruption,  gave  up  the  Moslem  principles  of 
conquest,  and  sought  to  establish  in  Spain  a  peace 
ful  and  permanent  dominion.  As  conquerors  their 
heroism  was  only  equalled  by  their  moderation ;  and 
in  both,  for  a  time,  they  excelled  the  nations  with 
whom  they  contended. "  Severed  from  their  native 
homes,  they  loved  the  land  given  them,  as  they  sup 
posed,  by  Allah,  and  strove  to  embellish  it  with 
every  thing  that  could  administer  to  the  happiness  of 
man.  Laying  the  foundations  of  their  power  in 
a  system  of  wise  and  equitable  laws,  diligently  cul 
tivating  the  arts  and  sciences,  and  promoting  agri 
culture,  manufactures,  and  commerce,  they  gradually 
formed  an  empire  unrivalled  for  its  piosperity,  b) 
any  of  the  empires  of  Christendom ;  and  diligently 
drawing  round  them  the  graces  and  refinements  that 


48  THE  ALHAMJ3KA. 

marked  the  Arabian  empire  in  the  east  at  the  time 
of  its  greatest  civilization,  they  diffused  the  light  of 
oriental  knowledge  through  the  western  regions  of 
benighted  Europe. 

The  cities  of  Arabian  Spain  became  the  resort  of 
Christian  artisans,  to  instruct  themselves  in  the  use- 
Ail  arts.  The  universities  of  Toledo,  Cordova,  Se- 
/ville,  and  Granada  were  sought  by  the  pale  student 
from  other  lands,  to  acquaint  himself  with  the  sci 
ences  of  the  Arabs,  and  the  treasured  lore  of  an 
tiquity  ;  the  lovers  of  the  gay  sciences  resorted  to 
Cordova  and  Granada,  to  imbibe  the  poetry  and 
music  of  the  east  ;  and  the  steel-clad  warriors  of.  the 
north  hastened  thither,  to  accomplish  themselves  in 
the  graceful  exercises  and  courteous  usages  of  chiv 
alry. 

If  the  Moslem  monuments  in  Spain  ;  if  the  Mosque 
of  Cordova,  the  Alcazar  of  Seville  and  the  Alhambra 
of  Granada,  still  bear  inscriptions  fondly  boasting  of 
the  power  and  permanency  of  their  dominion,  can 
the  boast  be  derided  as  arrogant  and  vain  ?  Gener 
ation  after  generation,  century  after  century  had 
passed  away,  and  still  they  maintained  possession  of 
the  land.  A  period  had  elapsed  longer  than  that 
which  has  passed  since  England  was  subjugated  by 
the  Norman  conqueror;  and  the  descendants  of 
Musa  and  Tarik  might  as  little  anticipate  being 
driven  into  exile,  across  the  same  straits  traversed 
by  their  triumphant  ancestors,  as  the  descendants  of 
Rollo  and  William  and  their  victorious  peers  may 
dream  of  being  driven  back  to  the  shores  of  Nor 
mandy. 

With  all  this,  however,  the  Moslem  empire  in 
Spain  was  but  a  brilliant  exotic  that  took  no  perma 
nent  root  in  the  soil  it  embellished.  Secured  from 
all  their  neighbours  of  the  west  by  impassable  bar 
riers  of  faith  and  manners,  and  separated  by  seas 
and  deserts  from  their  kindred  of  the  east,  they  were 


MOV  L  KM  D  OM1NA  TICK  IK  SPAIN.      49 

an  isolated  people.  Their  whole  existence  was  a 
prolonged  though  gallant  and  chivalric  struggle  for 
a  foot-hold  in  a  usurped  -land.  They  were  the  out 
posts  and  frontiers  of  Islamism.  The  peninsula  was 
the  great  battle  ground  where  the  Gothic  conquerors 
of  the  north  and  the  Moslem  conquerors  of  the  east, 
met  and  strove  for  mastery  ;  and  the  fiery  courage 
of  the  Arab  was  at  length  subdued  by  the  obstinate 
and  persevering  valour  of  the  Goth. 

Never  was  the  annihilation  of  a  people  more  com 
plete  than  that  of  the  Morisco  Spaniards.  Where 
are  they  ?  Ask  the  shores  of  Barbary  and  its  desert 
places.  The  exiled  remnant  of  their  once  powerful 
empire  disappeared  among  th?  barbarians  of  Africa, 
and  ceased  to  be  a  nation.  They  have  not  even  left 
a  distinct  name  behind  them,  though  for  nearly  eight 
centuries  they  were  a  distinct  people.  The  home  of 
their  adoption  and  of  their  occupation  for  ages  re 
fuses  to  acknowledge  them  but  as  invaders  and 
usurpers.  A  few  broken  monuments  are  all  that 
remain  to  bear  witness  to  their  power  and  dominion, 
i,s  solitary  rocks  left  far  in  the  interior  bear  testi 
mony  to  the  extent  of  some  vast  inundation.  Such 
is  the  Alhambra.  ^A  Moslem  pile  in  the  midst  of  a 
Christian  land  ;  an  oriental  palace  amidst  the  Gothic 
edifices  of  the  west ;  an  elegant  memento  of  a  brave, 
intelligent  and  graceful  people,  who  conquered,  ruled, 
and  passed  away. 


THE  HOUSEHOLD. 

IT  is  time  that  I  give  some  idea  of  my  domestic 
arrangements  in  this  singular  residence.  The  royal 
palace  of  the  Alhambra  is  intrusted  to  the  care  of  a 
gcod  old  maiden  dame  called  Doiia  Antonia  Molina, 
but  who,  according  to  Spanish  custom,  goes  by  the 
more  neighbourly  appellation  of  Tia  Antonia  (Aunt 
Antonia).  She  maintains  the  Moorish  halls  and  gar 
dens  in  order,  and  shows  them  to  strangers ;  in  con 
sideration  of  which,  she  is  allowed  all  the  perqui 
sites  received  from  visitors  and  all  the  produce  of  the 
gardens,  excepting  that  she  is  expected  to  pay  an 
occasional  tribute  of  fruits  and  flowers  to  the  gov 
ernor.  Her  residence  is  in  a  corner  of  the  palace, 
and  her  family  consists  of  a  nephew  and  niece,  the 
children  of  two  different  brothers.  The  nephew, 
Manuel  Molina,  is  a  young  man  of  sterling  worth 
and  Spanish  gravity.  He  has  served  in  the  armies 
both  in  Spain  and  the  West  Indies,  but  is  now  study 
ing  medicine  in  hopes  of  one  day  or  other  becoming 
physician  to  the  fortress,  a  post  worth  at  least  a  hun 
dred  and  forty  dollars  a  year.  As  to  the  niece,  she 
is  a  plump  little  black-eyed  Andalusian .  damsel 
named  Dolores,  but  who  from  her  bright  looks  and 
cheerful' disposition  merits  a  merrier  name.  She  is 
the  declared  heiress  of  all  her  aunt's  possessions, 
consisting  of  certain  ruinous  tenements  in  the -for 
tress,  yielding  a  revenue  of  about  one  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars.  I  had  not  been  long  in  the  Alhambra 
before  I  discovered  that  a  quiet  courtship  was  going 
on  between  the  discreet  Manuel  and  his  bright-eyed 


THE  HOUSEHOLD.  51 

cousin,  and  that  nothing  was  wanting  to  enable  them 
to  join  their  hands  and  expectations,  but  that  he 
should  receive  his  doctor's  diploma,  and  purchase 
a  dispensation'  from  the  pope,  on  account  of  their 
consanguinity. 

With  the  good  dame  Antonia  I  have  made  a 
treaty,  according  to  which,  she  furnishes  me  with 
board  and  lodging,  while  the  merry-hearted  little 
Dolores  keeps  my  apartment  in  order  and  officiates 
as  handmaid  at  meal  times.  I  have  also  at  my  com 
mand  a  tall,  stuttering,  yellow-haired  lad  named  Pepe, 
who  works  in  the  garden,  and  would  fain  have  acted 
as  valet,  but  in  this  he  was  forestalled  by  Mateo 
Ximenes,  "  The  son  of  the  Alhambra."  This  alert 
and  officious  wight  has  managed,  somehow  or  other, 
to  stick  by  me,  ever  since  I  first  encountered  him  at 
the  outer  gate  of  the  fortress,  and  to  weave  himself 
into  all  my  plans,  until  he  has  fairly  appointed  and 
installed  himself  my  valet,  cicerone,  guide,  guard,  and 
historic-graphic  squire ;  and  I  have  been  obliged  to 
improve  the  state  of  his  wardrobe,  that  he  may  not 
disgrace  his  various  functions,  so  that  he  has  cast 
off  his  old  brown  mantle,  as  a  snake  does  his  skin, 
and  now  figures  about  the  fortress  with  a  smart  An- 
dalusian  hat  and  jacket,  to  his  infinite  satisfaction 
and  the  great  astonishment  of  his  comrades.  The 
chief  fault  of  honest  Mateo  is  an  over-anxiety  to  be 
useful.  Conscious  of  having  foisted  himself  into  my 
employ,  and  that  my  simple  and  quiet  habits  render 
his  situation  a  sinecure,  he  is  at  his  wit's  end  to  de 
vise  modes  of  making  himself  important  to  my  wel 
fare.  I  am  in  a  Banner  the  victim  of  his  officious- 
ness  ;  I  cannot  put  my  foot  over  the  threshold  of  the 
palace  to  stroll  about  the  fortress,  but  he  is  at  my 
ebow  to  explain  every  thing  I  see,  and  if  I  venture 
to  ramble  among  the  surrounding  hills,  he  insists 
upon  attending  me  as  a  guard,  though  I  vehemently 
suspect  he  would  be  more  apt  to  trust  to  the  length 


52  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

of  his  legs  than  the  strength  of  his  arms  in  case  of 
attack.  After  all,  however,  the  poor  fellow  is  at 
times  an  amusing  companion  ;  he-is  simple-minded 
and  of  infinite  good  humour,  with  the  loquacity  and 
gossip  of  a  village  barber,  and  knows  all  the  sniall 
talk  of  the  place  and  its  environs;  but  what  he 
cniefiy  values  himself  on  is  his  stock  of  local  in 
formation,  having  the  most  marvellous  stories  to  ie- 
late  of  every  tower,  and  vault  and  gateway  of  the 
fortress,  in  all  of  which  he  places  the  most  implicit 
faith. 

Most  of  these  he  has  derived,  according  to  his 
own  account,  from  his  grandfather,  a  little  legend 
ary  tailor,  who  lived  to  the  age  of  nearly  a  hundred 
years,  during  which  he  made  but  two  migrations  be 
yond  the  precincts  of  the  fortress.  His  shop,  for  the 
greater  part  of  a  century,  was  the  resort  of^a  knot 
of  venerable  gossips,  where  they  would  pass  naif  the 
night  talking  about  old  times  and  the  wonderful 
events  and  hidden  secrets  of  the  place.  The  whole 
living,  moving,  thinking  and  acting  of  this  little  his 
torical  tailor,  had  thus  been  bounded  by  the  walls  of 
the  Alhambra  ;  within  them  he  had  been  born,  within 
them  he  lived,  breathed  and  had  his  being,  within 
them  he  died  and  was  buried.  Fortunately  for  pos 
terity  his  traditionary  lore  died  not  with  him.  The 
authentic  Mateo,  when  an  urchin,  used  to  be  an  at 
tentive  listener  to  the  narratives  of  his  grandtather 
and  of  the  gossip  group  assembled  round  the  shop 
board,  and  is  thus  possessed  of  a  stock  of  valuable 
knowledge  concerning  the  Alhambra,  not  to  be 
found  in  the  books,  and  well  worthy  the  attention  of 
every  curious  traveller. 

Such  are  the  personages  that  contribute  to  my 
domestic  comforts  in  the  Alhambra,  and  I  question 
whether  any  of  the  potentates,  Moslem  or  Christian, 
who  have  preceded  me  in  the  palace,  have  been 
waited  upon  with  greater  fidelity  or  enjoyed  a  se- 
rener  sway. 


THE  HO  UtEHOLD .  53 

When  I  rise  in  die  morning,  Pepe,  the  stuttering 
lad,  from  the  gardens,  brings  me  a  tribute  of  fresh 
culled  flowers,  which  are  afterwards  arranged  in 
vases  by  the  skilful  hand  of  Dolores,  who  takes  no 
small  pride  in  the  decorations  of  my  chamber.  My 
meals  are  made  wherever  caprice  dictates,  some 
times  in  one  of  the  Moorish  halls,  sometimes  under 
the  arcades  of  the  Court  of  Lions,  surrounded  by 
flowers  and  fountains  ;  and  when  I  walk  out  I  am 
conducted  by  the  assiduous  Mateo  to  the  most  ro 
mantic  retreats  of  the  mountains  and  delicious 
haunts  of  the  adjacent  valleys,  not  one  of  which 
but  is  the  scene  of  some  wonderful  tale. 

Though  fond  of  passing  the  greater  part  of  my 
day  alone,  yet  I  occasionally  repair  in  the  evenings 
to  the  little  domestic  circle  of  Dona  Antonia.  This 
is  generally  held  in  an  old  Moorish  chamber,  that 
serves  for  kitchen  as  well  as  hall,  a  rude  fire-place 
having  been  made  in  one  corner,  the  smoke  from 
which  has  discoloured  the  walls  and  almost  oblite 
rated  the  ancient  arabesques.  A  window  with  a 
balcony  overhanging  the  balcony  of  the  Darro,  lets 
in  the  cool  evening  breeze,  and  here  I  take  my 
frugal  supper  of  fruit  and  milk,  and  mingle  with 
the  conversation  of  the  family.  There  is  a  natural 
talent,  or  mother  wit,  as  it  is  called,  about  the 
Spaniards,  which  renders  them  intellectual  and 
agreeable  companions,  whatever  may  be  their  con 
dition  in  life,  or  however  imperfect  may  have  been 
their  education  ;  add  to  this,  they  are  never  vulgar 
nature  has  endowed  them  with  an  inherent  dignity 
of  spirit.  The  good  Tia  Antonia  is  a  woman  of 
strong  and  intelligent,  though  uncultivated  mind, 
and  the  bright-eyed  Dolores,  though  she  has  read 
but  three  or  four  books  in  the  whole  course  of  her 
life,  has  an  engaging  mixture  of  naivete  and  good 
sense,  and  often  surprises  me  by  the  pungency  of 
her  artless  sallies.  Sometimes  the  nephew  enter- 


54  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

tains  us  by  reading  some  old  comedy  of  Calderon  01 
Lope  de  Vega,  to  which  he  is  evidently  prompted  by 
*  desire  to  improve,  as  well  as  amuse  his  cousin 
Dolores,  though  to  his  great  mortification  the  little 
damsel  generally  falls  asleep  before  the  first  act  is 
completed.  Sometimes  Tia  Antonia  has  a  little 
bevy  of  humble  friends  and  dependants,  the  inhabit 
ants  of  the  adjacent  hamlet,  or  the  wives  of  the  invalid 
soldiers.  These  look  up  to  her  with  great  deference 
as  the  custodian  of  the  palace,  and  pay  their  court 
to  her  by  bringing  the  news  of  the  place,  or  the 
rumours  that  may  have  straggled  up  from  Granada. 
In  listening  to  the  evening  gossipings,  I  have 
picked  up  many  curious  facts,  illustrative  of  the 
manners  of  the  people  and  the  peculiarities  of  the 
neighbourhood. 

These  are  simple  details  of  simple  pleasures  ;  it  is 
the  nature  of  the  place  alone  that  gives  them  interest 
and  importance.  I  tread  haunted  ground  and  am 
surrounded  by  romantic  associations.  From  earliest 
boyhood,  when,  on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson,  I  first 
pored  over  the  pages  of  an  old  Spanish  story  about 
the  wars  of  Granada,  that  city  has  ever  been  a  sub 
ject  of  my  waking  dreams,  and  oiten  have  1  trod  in 
fancy  the  romantic  halls  of  the  Alhambra.  Behold 
for  once  a  day  dream  realized  ;  yet  1  can  scarcely 
credit  my  senses  or  believe  that  I  do  indeed  inhabit 
the  palace  of  Boabdil,  and  look  down  from  its  bal 
conies  upon  chivalric  Granada.  As  I  loiter  through 
the  oriental  chambers,  and  hear  the  murmuring  of 
fountains  and  the  song  of  the  nightingale  :  as  1  in 
hale  the  odour  of  the  rose  and  feel  the  influence  of 
the  balmy  climate,  I  am  almost  tempted  to  fancy 
myself  in  the  Paradise  of  .Mahomet,  and  that  the 
plump  little  Dolores  is  one  of  the  bright-eyed  Houris, 
destined  to  administer  to  the  happiness  of  true  be 
lievers. 


THE  TRUANT, 

SINCE  writing  the  foregoing  pages,  we  have  had 
a  scene  of  petty  tribulation  in  the  Alhambra  which 
has  thrown  a  cloud  over  the  sunny  countenance  of 
Dolores.  This  little  damsel  has  a  female  passion  for 
pets  of  all  kinds,  from  the  superabundant  kindness 
of  her  disposition.  One  of  the  ruined  courts  of  the 
Alhambra  is  thronged  with  her  favourites.  A  stately 
peacock  and  his  hen  seem  to  hold  regal  sway  here, 
over  pompous  turkeys,  querulous  guinea  fowls,  and 
a  rabble  rout  of  common  cocks  and  hens.  The  great 
delight  of  Dolores,  however,  has  for  SOTIC  time  past 
been  centred  in  a  youthful  pair  of  pigeons,  who 
have  lately  entered  into  the  holy  state  of  wedlock, 
and  who  have  even  supplanted  a  tortoise  shell  cat 
and  kitten  in  her  affections. 

As  a  tenement  for  them  to  commence  housekeep 
ing  she  had  fitted  up  a  small  chamber  adjacent  to 
the  kitchen,  the  window  of  which  looked  into  one  of 
the  quiet  Moorish  courts.  Here  they  lived  in  happy 
ignorance  of  any  world  beyond  the  court  and  its 
sunny  roofs.  In  vain  they  aspired  to  soar  above  the 
battlements,  or  to  mount  to  the  summit  of  the  towers. 
Their  virtuous  union  was  at  length  crowned  by  two 
spotless  and  milk  white  eggs,  to  the  great  joy  of  their 
cherishing  little  mistress.  Nothiug  could  be  raore 
praiseworthy  than  the  conduct  of  the  young  married 
folks  on  this  interesting  occasion.  They  took  turns 
to  sit  upon  the  nest  until  the  eggs  were  hatched, 


53  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

and  while  their  callow  progeny  required  warmth  and 
shelter.  While  one  thus  stayed  at  home,  the  other 
foraged  abroad  for  food,  and  brought  home  abun 
dant  supplies. 

This  scene  of  conjugal  felicity  has  suddenly  met 
with  a  reverse.  Early  this  morning,  as  Dolores  was 
feeding  the  male  pigeon,  she  took  a  fancy  to  give 
him  a  peep  at  the  great  world.  Opening  a  window, 
therefore,  which  looks  down  upon  the  valley  of  the 
Darro,  she  launched  him  at  once  beyond  the  walls 
of  the  Alhambra.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  the 
astonished  bird  had  to  try  the  full  vigour  of  his 
wings.  He  swept  down  into  the  valley,  and  then 
rising  upwards  with  a  surge,  soared  almost  to  the 
clouds.  Never  before  had  he  risen  to  such  a  height 
or  experienced  such  delight  in  flying,  and  like  a 
young  spendthrift,  just  conie  to  his  estate,  he  seemed 
giddy  with  excess  of  liberty,  and  with  the  boundless 
field  of  action  suddenly  opened  to  him.  For  the 
whole  day  he  has  been  circling  about  in  capricious 
flights,  from  tower  to  tower  and  from  tree  to  tree. 
Every  attempt  has  been  made  in  vain  to  lure  him. 
back,  by  scattering  grain  upon  the  roofs  ;  he  seenxs 
to  have  lost  all  thought  of  hrvne,  of  his  tender  help 
mate  and  his  callow  young.  To  add  to  the  anxiety 
of  Dolores,  he  has  been  joined  by  two  palomas  ia- 
drones,  or  robber  pigeons,  whose  instinct  it  is  tc 
entice  wandering  pigeons  to  their  own  dove-cotes, 
The  fugitive,  like  many  other  thoughtless  youths  on 
their  first  launching  upon  the  world,  seems  quite 
fascinated  with  these  knowing,  but  graceless,  com 
panions,  who  have  undertaken  to  show  him  life  and 
introduce  him  to  society.  He  has  been  soaring  with 
them  over  all  the  roofs  and  steeples  of  Granada.  A 
thunder  shower  has  passed  over  the  city,  but  he  has 
not  soug'ht  his  home  ;  night  has  closed  in,  and  still 
he  comes  not.  To  deepen  the  pathos  of  the  affair, 
the  female  pigeon,  after  remaining  several  hours  on 


THE  TRUANT.  57 

the  nest  without  being  relieved,  at  length  went  forth 
to  seek  her  recreant  mate  ;  but  stayed  away  so  long1 
that  the  young-ones  perished  for  want  of  the  warmth 
and  shelter  of  the  parent  bosom. 

At  a  late  hour  in  the  evening,  word  was  brought 
to  Dolores  that  the  truant  bird  had  been  seen  upon 
the  towers  of  the  Generaliffe.  Now,  it  so  happens 
that  the  Adininistrador  of  that  ancient  palace  has 
likewise  a  dove-cote,  among  the  inmates  of  which 
are  said  to  be  two  or  three  of  these  inveigling  birds, 
the  terror  of  all  neighbouring  pigeon  fanciers.  Do 
lores  immediately  concluded  that  the  two  feathered 
sharpers  who  had  been  seen  with  her  fugitive,  were 
these  bloods  of  the  Generaliffe.  A  council  of  war 
was  forthwith  held  in  the  chamber  of  Tia  Antonia. 
The  Generaliffe  is  a  distinct  jurisdiction  from  the 
Alhambra,  and  of  course  some  punctilio,  if  not  jeal 
ousy,  exists  between  their  custodians.  It  was  deter 
mined,  therefore,  to  send  Pepe,  the  stuttering  lad  of 
the  gardens,  as  ambassador  to  the  Administrador, 
requesting  that  if  such  fugitive  should  be  found  in 
his  dominions,  he  might  be  given  up  as  a  subject  of 
the  Alhambra.  Pepe  departed,  accordingly,  on  his 
diplomatic  expedition,  through  the  moonlight  groves 
and  avenues,  but  returned  in  an  hour  with  the  af 
flicting  intelligence  that  no  such  bird, was  to  be 
found" in  the  dove-cote  of  the  Generaliffe.  The  Ad 
ministrador,  however,  pledged  his  sovereign  bird, 
that  if  such  vagrant  should  appear  there,  even  at 
midnight,  he  should  instantly  be  arrested  and  sent 
back  prisoner  to  his  little  black-eyed  mistress. 

Thus  stands  this  melancholy  affair,  which  has  oc 
casioned  much  distress  throughout  the  palace,  and 
has  sent  the  inconsolable  Dolores  to  a  sleepless  pil 
low. 

"Sorrow  endureth  for  a  night,"  says  the  proveib, 
"but  jov  ariscth  in  the  morning."  The  first  object 
that  met  my  eyes  on  leaving  my  room  .this  morning 


58  THE  AL8AMBRA. 

was  Dolores  with  the  truant  pigeon  in  her  hand,  and 
her  eyes  sparkling1  with  joy.  He  had  appeared  at  an 
early  hour  on  the  battlements,  hovering  shyly  about 
from  roof  to  roof,  but  at  length  entered  the  window 
jmu  surrendered  himself  prisoner.  He  gained  little 
cred  %  however,  by  his  returr  „  for  the  ravenous  man 
ner  ii  \vhich  he  devoured  the  food  set  before  him, 
shmved  that,  like  the  prodigal  son,  he  had  been 
driven  home  by  sheer  famine.  Dolores  upbraided 
him  for  his  faithless  conduct,  calling  him  all  manner 
of  vagrant  names,  though  woman-like,  she  fondled 
him  at  the  same  time  to  her  bosom  and  covered  him 
with  kisses.  I  observed,  however,  that  she  had 
taken  care  to  clip  his  wings  to  prevent  all  future 
soarings ;  a  precaution  which  I  mention  for  the 
benefit  of  all  those  who  have  truant  wives  or  wan 
dering  husbands.  More  than  one  valuable  moral 
might  be  drawn  from  the  story  of  Dolores  and  her 
pigeon. 


THE 
AUTHOR'S  CHAMBER. 

ON  taking  up  my  abode  in  the  Alhambra,  one  end 
cf  a  suite  of  empty  chambers  of  modern  architect 
ure,  intended  for  the  residence  of  the  governor, 
was  fitted  up  for  my  reception.  It  was  in  front 
of  the  palace,  looking  forth  upon  the  esplanade. 
The  farther  end  communicated  with  a  cluster  of  lit 
tle  chambers,  partly  Moorish,  partly  modern,  in 
habited  by  Tia  Antonia  and  her  family.  These 
terminated  in  a  large  room  which  serves  the  good 
old  dame  for  parlour,  kitchen,  and  hall  of  audience. 
Jt  had  boasted  of  some  splendour  in  time  of  the 
Moors,  but  a  fire-place  had  been  built  in  one  corner, 
the  smoke  from  which  had  discoloured  the  walls ; 
nearly  obliterated  the  ornaments,  and  spread  a  som 
bre  tint  over  the  whole.  From  these  gloomy  apart 
ments,  a  narrow  blind  corridor  and  a.  dark  winding 
staircase  led  down  an  angle  of  the  tower  of  Co- 
mares  ;  groping  down  which,  and  opening  a  small 
door  at  the  bottom,  you  are  suddenly  dazzled  by 
emerging  into  the  brilliant  antechamber  of  the  hall 
of  ambassadors,  with  the  fountain  of  the  court  of  the 
Alberca  sparkling  before  you. 

I  was  dissatisfied  with  being  lodged  in  a  modern 
and  frontier  apartment  of  the  palace,  and  longed  to 
ensconce  myself  in  the  very  heart  of  the  building. 

As  I  was  rambling  one  day  about  the  Moorish 
halls,  I  found,  in  a  remote  gallery,  a  door  which  I  had 
not  before  noticed,  communicating  apparently  with 


60  THE  ALHAMLKA. 

an  extensive  apartment,  locked  up  from  the  public. 
Here  then  was  a  mystery.  Here  was  the  haunted 
wing  of  the  castle.  I  procured  the  key,  however, 
without  difficulty.  The  door  opened  to  a  range  of 
vacant  chambers  of  European  architecture  ;  though 
built  over  a  Moorish  arcade,  along  the  little  garden 
of  Lindaraxa.  There  were  two  lofty  rooms,  the 
ceilings  of  which  were  of  deep  panel-work  of  cedar, 
richly  and  skilfully  carved  with  fruits  and  flowers, 
intermingled  with  grotesque  masks  or  faces;  but 
broken  in  many  places.  The  walls  had  evidently, 
in  ancient  times,  been  hung  with  damask,  but  were 
now  naked,  and  scrawled  over  with  the  insignificant 
names  of  aspiring  travellers  ;  the  windows,  which 
were  dismantled  and  open  to  wind  and  weather, 
looked  into  the  garden  of  Lindaraxa,  and  the  orange 
and  citron  trees  flung  their  branches  into  the  cham 
bers.  Beyond  these  rooms  were  two  saloons,  less 
lofty,  looking  also  into  the  garden.  In  the  com 
partments  of  the  panelled  ceiling  were  baskets  of 
fruit  and  garlands  of  flowers,  painted  by  no  mean 
hand,  and  in  tolerable  preservation.  Tl'.e  walls  had 
also  been  painted  in  fresco  in  the  Italian  style,  but 
i  the  fainting?  were  .nearly  obliterated.  The  win- 
\  dows  were  in  the  same  shattered  state  as  in  the  oisuy 
^  chambers. 

This  fanciful  suite  of  rooms  terminated  in  an  oper 
gallery  with  balustrades,  which  ran  at  right  anglea 
along  another  side  of  the  garden.  The  whole  apart 
ment  had  a  delicacy  and  elegance  in  its  decorations 
and  there  was  something  so  choice  and  sequestered 
in  its  situation,  along  this  retired  little  garden,  that 
awakened  an  interest  in  its  history.  I  found,  on  in 
quiry,  that  it  was  an  apartment  fitted  up  by  Italian 
artists,  in  the  early  part  of  the  last  century,  at  the 
time  when  Philip  V.  and  the  beautiful  Elizabetta  of 
Parma  were  expected  at  the  Alhambra ;  and  was 
destined  for  the  queen  and  the  ladies  of  her  train. 


THE  AUTHOR' 8  CHAMBER.  61 

One  of  the  loftiest  chambers  had  been  her  sleeping 
room,  and  a  narrow  staircase  leading  from  it,  though 
now  walled  up,  opened  to  the  delightful  belvedere, 
originally  a  mirador  of  the  Moorish  sultanas,  but  fit 
ted  up  as  a  boudoir  for  the  fair  Elizabetta,  and  which 
still  retains  the  name  of  the  Tocador,  or  toilette  of 
the  queen.  The  sleeping  room  I  have  mentioned, 
commanded  from  one  window  a  prospect  of  the 
Generaliffe,  and  its  imbowered  terraces  ;  under  an 
other  window  played  the  alabaster  fountain  of  the 
garden  of  Lindaraxa.  That  garden  carried  my 
thoughts  still  farther  back,  to  the  period  of  another 
reign  of  beauty  ;  to  the  days  of  the  Moorish  sultanas. 
"  How  beauteous  is  this  garden  !  "  says  an  Arabic* 
inscription,  "  where  the  flowers  of  the  earth  vie  with 
the  stars  of  heaven  !  what  can  compare  with  the  vase 
of  yon  alabaster  fountain  filled  with  crystal  water? 
Nothing  but  the  moon  in  her  fulness,  shining  in  the 
midst  of  an  unclouded  sky  !  " 

Centuries  had  elapsed,  yet  how  much  of  this  scene 
of  apparently  fragile  beauty  remained  !  The  garden 
of  Lindaraxa  was  still  adorned  with  flowers  ;  the 
fountain  still  presented  its  crystal  mirror :  it  is  true, 
the  alabaster  had  lost  its  whiteness,  and  the  basin 
beneath,  overrun  with  weeds,  had  become  the  nes 
tling  place  of  the  lizard  ;  but  there  was  something  in 
the  very  decay  that  enhanced  the  interest  of  the 
scene,  speaking,  as  it  did,  of  that  mutability  which  is 
the  irrevocable  lot  of  man  and  all  his  works.  The 
desolation,  too,  of  these  chambers,  once  the  abode 
of  the  prouB  and  elegant  Eiizabetta,  had  a  more 
touching  charm  for  me  than  if  i  had' beheld  them  in 
their  pristine  splendour,  glittering  with  the  pageant 
ry  of  a  court. — I  determined  at  once  to  take  up  my 
quarters  in  this  apartment. 

My  determination  excited  great  surprise  in  the 
family;  who  could  not  imagine  any  rational  induce 
ment  for  the  choice  of  so  solitary,  remote  and  for- 


63  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

lorn  an  apartment.  The  good  Tia  Antonia  consid 
ered  it  highly  dangerous.  The  neighbourhood,  she 
said,  was  infested  by  vagrants  ;  the  caverns  of  the 
adjacent  hills  swarmed  with  gipsies  ;  the  palace  was 
ruinous  and  easy  to  be  entered  in  many  parts  ;  and 
the  rumour  of  a  stranger  quartered  alone  in  one  of 
the  ruined  apartments,  out  of  the  hearing  of  the  rest 
of  the  inhabitants,  might  tempt  unwelcome  visitors 
in  the  night,  especially  as  foreigners  are  always  sup 
posed  to  be  well  stocked  with  money.  Dolores  rep 
resented  the  frightful  loneliness  of  the  place  ;  nothing 
but  bats  and  owls  flitting  about ;  then  there  were  a 
fox  and  a  wild  cat  that  kept  about  the  vaults  and 
roamed  about  at  night. 

I  was  not  to  be  diverted  from  my  humour,  so  call 
ing  in  the  assistance  of  a  carpenter,  and  the  ever 
ofticious  Mateo  Ximenes,  the  doors  and  windows 
were  soon  placed  in  a  state  of  tolerable  security. 

With  all  these  precautions,  I  must  confess  the  first 
night  I  passed  in  these  quarters  was  inexpressibly 
dreary.  I  was  escorted  by  the  whole  family  to  my 
chamber,  and  there  taking  leave  of  me,  and  retiring 
along  the  waste  antechamber  and  echoing  galleries, 
reminded  me  of  those  hobgoblin  stories,  where  the 
hero  is  left  to  accomplish  the  adventure  of  a  haunted 
house. 

}  Soon  the  thoughts  of  the  fair  Elizabetta  and  the 
beauties  of  her  court,  who  had  once  graced  these 
chambers,  now  by  a  perversion  of  fancy  added  to  the 
gloom.  Here  was  the  scene  of  their  transient  gaiety 
and  loveliness ;  here  were  the  very  traces  of  their 
elegance  and  enjoyment ;  but  what  and  where  were 
they  ? — Dust  and  ashes  !  tenants  of  the  tomb  !  phan 
toms  of  the  memory  ! 

\ '  A  vague  and  indescribable  awe  was  creeping  over 
me.  I  would  fain  have  ascribed  it  to  the  thoughts 
of  robbers,  awakened  by  the  evening's  conversation, 
out  I  felt  that  it  was  something  more  unusual  and 


THE  AUTHOR'S  CHAMBER.  63 

absurd.  In  a  word,  the  long  buried  impressions  of 
the  nursery  were  reviving  and  asserting  their  power 
over  my  imagination.  Every  thing  began  to  be  af 
fected  by  the  workings  of  my  mind.  The  whisper 
ing  of  the  wind  among  the  citron  trees  beneath  my 
window  had  something  sinister.  I  cast  my  eyes  into 
the  garden  of  Lindaraxa;  the  groves  presented  a 
gulf  of  shadows  ;  the  thickets  had  indistinct  and 
ghastly  shapes.  I  was  glad  to  close  the  window  ; 
but  my  chamber  itself  became  infected.  A  bat  had 
found  its  way  in,  and  flitted  about  my  head  and 
athwart  my  solitary  lamp  ;  the  grotesque  faces  carved 
in  the  cedar  ceiling  seemed  to  mope  and  mow  at  me. 
Rousing  myself,  and  half  smiling  at  this  tempora 
ry  weakness,  I  resolved  to  brave  it,  and,  taking  lamp 
in  hand,  sallied  forth  to  make  a  tour  of  the  ancient 
palace.  Notwithstanding  every  mental  exertion,  the 
task  was  a  severe  one.  The  rays  of  my  lamp  ex 
tended  to  but  a  limited  distance  around  me  ;  I  walked 
as  it  were  in  a  mere  halo  of  light,  and  all  beyond  was 
thick  darkness.  The  vaulted  corridors  were  as  caverns; 
the  vaults  of  the  halls  were  lost  in  gloom ;  what  un 
seen  foe  might  not  be  lurking  before  or  behind  me  ; 
my  own  shadow  playing  about  the  walls,  and  the 
echoes  of  my  own  footsteps  disturbed  me. 

In  this  excited  state,  as  I  was  traversing  the  great 
Hall  of  Ambassadors,  there  were  added  real  sounds  to 
these  conjectural  fancies.  Low  moans  and  indistinct 
ejaculations  seemed  to  rise  as  it  were  from  beneath 
my  feet ;  I  paused  and  listened.  They  then  appear 
ed  to  resound  from  without  the  tower.  Sometimes 
they  resembled  the  howlings  of  an  animal,  at  others 
they  were  stifled  shrieks,  mingled  with  articulate 
ravings.  The  thrilling  effect  of  these  sounds  in  that 
still  hour  and  singular  place,  destroyed  all  inclination 
to  continue  my  lonely  perambulation.  I  returned  to 
my  chamber  with  more  alacrity  than  I  had  saliied 
forth,  and  drew  my  breath  more  freely  when  once 


6i  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

more  within  its  walls,  and  the  door  bolted  behind 
me. 

When  I  awoke  in  the  morning,  with  the  sun  shin 
ing  in  at  my  window,  and  lighting  up  every  part  of 
the  building  with  its  cheerful  and  truth-telling  beams, 
I  could  scarcely  recall  the  shadows  and  fancies  con 
jured  up  by  the  gloom  of  the  preceding  night ;  or 
believe  that  the  scenes  around  me,  so  naked  and  ap 
parent,  could  have  bt:cn  clothed  with  such  imaginary 
horrors. 

Still  the  dismal  howiings  and  ejaculations  I  had 
heard,  were  not  ideal  ;  but  they  were  soon  accounted 
for,  by  my  handmaid  Dolores  ;  being  the  ravings  of 
a  poor  maniac,  a  brother  of  her  aunt,  who  was  sub 
ject  to  violent  paroxysms,  during  which  he  was  con 
fined  in  a  vaulted  room  beneath  the  Hall  of  Ambas 
sadors. 


THE  ALHAMBRA  BY 
MOONLIGHT. 

I  HAVE  given  a  picture  of  my  apartment  en  nrjf 
first  taking  possession  of  it;  a 'few  evening's  have 
produced  a  thorough  change  in  the  scene  and  in  my 
feelings.  The  moon,  which  then  was  invisible,  has 
gradually  gained  upon  the  nights,  and  now  rolls  in 
full  splendour  above  the  towers,  pouring  a  flood  of 
tempered  light  into  every  court  and  hall.  The  gar 
den  beneath  my  window  is  gently  lighted  up ;  the 
orange  and  citron  trees  are  tipped  with  silver ;  the 
fountain  sparkles  in  the  moon  beams,  and  even  the 
blush  of  the  rose  is  faintly  visible. 

I  have  sat  for  hours  at  my  window  inhaling  the 
sweetness  of  the  garden,  and  musing  on  the  che 
quered  features  of  those  whose  history  is  ^vr»ly 
shadowed  out  in  the  elegant  memorials  aiound. 
Sometimes  I  have  issued  forth  at  midnight  when 
every  thing  was  quiet,  and  have  wandered  over  the 
whole  building.  Who  can  do  justice  to  a  moonlight 
night  in  such  a  climate,  and  in  such  a  place  !  The 
temperature  of  an  Andalusian  midnight,  in  summer 
is  perfectly  ethereal.  We  seem  lifted  up  into  a  purer 
atmosphere ;  there  is  a  serenity  of  soul,  a  buoyancy 
of  spirits,  an  elasticity  of  frame  that  render  mere  ex 
istence  enjoyment.  The  effect  of  moonlight,  too,  on 
the  Alhambra  has  something  like  enchantment. 
Every  rent  and  chasm  of  time,  every  mouldering 
tint  and  weather  stain  disappears;  the  marble  re 
sumes  its  original  whiteness ;  the  long  colonnades 


66  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

brighten  in  the  moon  beams ;  the  halls  are  illumi 
nated  with  a  softened  radiance,  until  the  whole  edi 
fice  reminds  one  of  the  enchanted  palace  of  an 
Arabian  tale. 

At  such  time  I  have  ascended  to  the  little  pavilion, 
called  the  Oueen's  Toilette,  to  enjoy  its  varied  and 
extensive  prospect.  To  the  right,  the  snowy  sum 
mits  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  would  gleam  like  silver 
clouds  against  the  darker  firmament,  and  all  the 
outlines  of  the  mountain  would  be  softened,  yet  deli 
cately  defined.  My  delight,  however,  would  be  to 
lean  over  the  parapet  of  the  tocador,  and  gaze  down 
upon  Granada,  spread  out  like  a  map  below  me :  rill 
buried  in  deep  repose,  and  its  white  palaces  and 
convents  sleeping  as  it  were  in  the  moonshine. 

Sometimes  I  would  hear  the  faint  sounds  of  cas 
tanets  from  some  party  of  dancers  1,'ngering  in  the 
Alameda  ;  at  other  times  I  have  heai'l  the  dubious 
tones  of  a  guitar,  and  the  notes  of  a  single  voice 
rising  from  some  solitary  street,  and  have  pictured 
to  myself  some  youthful  cavalier  serenading  his  lady's 
window ;  a  gallant  custom  of  former  days,  but  now 
sadly  on  the  decline  except  in  the  remote  towns  and 
villages  of  Spain. 

Such  are  the  scenes  that  have  detained  me  for 
many  an  hour  loitering  about  the  courts  and  bal 
conies  of  the  castle,  enjoying  that  mixture  of  reverie 
and  sensation  which  steal  away  existence  in  a  south 
ern  climate — and  it  has  been  almost  morning  before 
I  have  retired  to  my  bed,  and  been  lulled  to  sleep  by 
the  falling  waters  of  the  fountain  of  Lindaraxa. 


INHABITANTS 
OF  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

I  HAVE  often  observed  that  the  more  proudly  a 
mansion  has  been  tenanted  in  the  day  of  its  pros 
perity,  the  humbler  are  its  inhabitants  in  the  day  of 
its  decline,  and  that  the  palace  of  the  king  comrr.or,. 
\l  ends  in  being  the  nestling  place  of  thc.  beggar. 

The  Alhimbra  is  in  a  rapid  state  of  similar 
transition :  whenever  a  tower  falls  to  decay,  it  is 
seized  upon  by  some  tatterdemalion  family,  who 
become  joint  tenants  with  the  bats  and  owls  of  its 
gilded  halls,  and  hang  their  rags,  those  standards  of 
poverty,  out  of  its  windows  and  loop-holes. 

I  have  amused  myself  with  remarking  some  of 
the  motley  characters  that  have  thus  usurped  the 
ancient  abode  of  royalty,  and  who  seem  as  if  placed 
here  to  give  a  farcical  termination  to  the  drama 
of  human  pride.  One  of  these  even  bears  the 
mockery  of  a  royal  title.  It  is  a  little  old  woman 
named  Maria  Antonia  SaBonea,  but  who  goes  by 
the  appellation  of  la  Reyna  Cuquina,  or  the  cockle 
queen.  She  is  small  enough  to  be  a  fairy,  and  a 
fairy  she  may  be  for  aught  I  can  find  out,  for  no  one 
seems  to  know  her  origin.  Her  habitation  is  a  kind 
of  closet  under  the  outer  staircase  of  the  palace,  and 
she  sits  in  the  cool  stone  corridor  plying  her  needle 
and  singing  from  morning  till  night,  with  a  ready 
joke  for  every  one  that  passes,  for  though  one  of 
the  poorest,  she  is  one  of  the  merriest  little  women 
breathing.  Her  great  merit  is  a  gift  for  story-tell- 


63  THE  ALHAMBZA. 

ing ;  having,  I  verily  believe,  as  many  stones  at  her 
command  as  the  inexhaustible  Scheherezade  of  the 
thousand  and  one  nights.  Some  of  these  I  have 
heard  her  relate  in  the  evening  tertulias  of  Doila 
Antonia,  at  which  she  is  occasionally  an  humble  at 
tendant. 

That  there  must  be  some  fairy  gift  about  this 
mysterious  little  old  woman,  would  appear  from  her 
extraordinary  luck,  since,  notwithstanding  her  being 
very  little,  very  ugly,  and  very  poor,  she  has  had, 
according  to  her  own  account,  five  husbands  and  a 
half;  reckoning  as  a  half,  one,  a  young  dragoon  who 
died  during  courtship. 

A  rival  personage  to  this  little  fairy  queen  is  a 
portly  old  fellow  with  a  bottle  nose,  who  goes  about 
in  a  rusty  garb,  with  a  cocked  hat  of  oil  skin  and  a 
red  cockade.  He  is  one  of  the  legitimate  sons  of 
the  Alhambra,  and  has  lived  here  all  his  life,  filling 
various  offices;  such  as  deputy  Alguazil,  sexton  of 
the  parochlil  church,  and  marker  of  a  five's  court 
established  at  the  foot  of  one  of  the  towers.  He  is 
as  poor  as  a  rat,  but  as  proud  as  he  is  ragged, 
boasting  of  his  descent  from  the  illustrious  house  of 
Aguilar,  from  which  sprang  Gonsalvo  of  Cordova, 
the  Grand  captain.  Nay,  he  actually  bears  the 
name  of  Alonzo  de  Aguilar,  so  renowned  in  the  his 
tory  of  the  conquest,  though  the  graceless  wags  of 
the  fortress  have  given  him  the  title  of  el  Padre 
Santo,  or  the  Holy  Father,  the  usual  appellation  of 
the  pope,  which  I  had  thought  too  sacred  in  the  eyes 
of  true  catholics  to  be  thus  ludicrously  applied.  It 
is  a  whimsical  caprice  of  fortune,  to  present  in  the 
grotesque  person  of  this... tatterdemalion  a  namesake 
and  descendant  of  the  proud  Alonzo  de  Aguilar,  the 
mirror  of  Andalusian  chivalry,  leading  an  almost 
mendicant  existence  about  this  once  haughty  fjr- 
tress,  which  his  ancestor  aided  to  reduce ;  yet  cuch 
mi^ht  have  been  the  lot  of  the  descendants  of  Acra- 


TB  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA.    C9 

rv..:mnon  and  Achilles,  had  they  lingered  about  the 
ruins  of  Troy. 

Of  J-his  motley  community  I  find  the  family  of  my 
gossiping  squiie  Mateo  Ximenes  to  form,  from  their 
numbers  at  least,  a  very  important  part.  His  boast 
01  being  a  son  of  the  Alhambra  is  not  unfounded. 
Ttiis  family  has  inhabited  the  fortress  ever  since  the 
time  of  the  conquest,  handing  down  a  hereditary 
poverty  from  father  to  son,  not  one  of  them  having 
ever  been  known  to  be  worth  a  marevedi.  His 
father,  by  ti  ade  a  riband  weaver,  and  who  succeeded 
the  histor  ical  tailor  as  the  head  of  the  family,  is  now 
near  seventy  years  of  age,  and  lives  in  a  hovel  of 
reeds  and  plaster,  built  by  his  own  hands,  just,  above 
the  iron  gate.  The  furniture  consists  ot  a  crazy 
bed,  a  table,  and  two  or  three  chairs  ;  a  wooden 
chest,  containing  his  clothes,  and  the  archives  of  his 
family ;  that  is  to  say,  a  few  papers  concerning  old 
law-suits  which  he  cannot  read  ;  but  the  pride  of  his 
heart  is  a  blazon  of  the  arms  of  the  family,  brilliantly 
coloured  and  suspended  in  a  frame  against  the  wall, 
clearly  demonstrating  by  its  quartering^  the  various 
noble  houses  with  which  this  poverty-stricken  brood 
claim  affinity. 

As  to  Mateo  himself,  he  has  done  his  utmost  to 
perpetuate  his  line;  having  a  wife,  and  a  numerous 
progeny  who  inhabit  an  almost  dismantled  hovel  in 
the  hamlet.  How  they  manage  to  subsist,  He  only 
who  sees  into  all  mysteries  can  tell — the  subsistence 
of  a  Spanish  family  of  the  kind  is  always  a  riddle  to 
me  ;  yet  they  do  subsist,  and,  what  is  more,  appear 
to  enjoy  their  existence.  The  wife  takes  her  holycUy 
stroll  in  the  Paseo  of  Granada,  with  a  child  in  her 
arms,  and  half  a  dozen  at  her  heels,  and  the  eldest 
daughter,  now  verging  into  womanhood,  dresses 
her  hair  with  flowers,  and  dances  gaily  to  the  cas 
tanets. 


70  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

There  are  two  classes  of  people  to  whom  life 
seems  one  long  holyday,  the  very  rich  and  the  very 
poor ;  one  because  they  need  do  nothing,  the  other 
because  they  have  nothing  to  do  ;  buuthere  are  none 
who  understand  the  art  of  doing  nothing  and  living 
upon  nothing  better  than  the  poor  classes  of  Spain. 
Climate  does  one  half  and  temperament  the  rest. 
Give  a  Spaniard  the  shade  in  summer,  and  the  sun 
in  winter,  a  little  bread,  garlic,  oil  and  garbanzos,  an 
old  brown  cloak  and  a  guitar,  and  let  the  world  roll 
on  as  it  pleases.  Talk  of  poverty,  with  him  it  has 
no  disgrace.  It  sits  upon  him  with  a  grandioso 
style,  like  his  ragged  cloak.  He  is  a  hidalgo  even 
when  in  rags. 

The  "  Sons  of  the  Alhambra "  are  an  eminent 
illustration  of  this  practical  pnilosophy.  As  the 
Moors  imagined  that  the  celestial  paradise  hung 
over  this  favoured  spot,  so  I  am  inclined,  at  times,  to 
fancy  that  a  gleam  of  the  golden  age  still  lingers 
about  this  ragged  community.  They  possess  noth 
ing,  they  do  nothing,  they  care  for  nothing.  Yet, 
though  apparently  idle  all  the  week,  they  are  as 
observant  of  all  holydays  and  saints'  days  as  the 
most  laborious  artisan.  They  attend  all  fetes  ana 
dancings  in  Granada  and  its  vicinity,  light  bon-fire= 
on  the  hills  of  St.  John's  eve,  and  have  lately  danced 
away  the  moonlight  nights,  on  the  harvest  home  of  a 
small  field  of  wheat  within  the  ^recincts  of  the  for 
tress. 

Before  concluding  these  remarks  I  must  mention 
one  of  the  amusements  of  the  place  which  has  par 
ticularly  struck  me.  I  had  repeatedly  observed  a  long; 
lean  fellow  perched  on  the  top  of  one  of  the  tov-<*°rs 
manoeuvring  two  or  three  fishing  rods,  as  though  he 
was  angling  for  the  stars.  I  was  for  some  timn  per 
plexed  by  the  evolutions  of  this  aerial  fisherman,  aad 
rny  perplexity  increased  on  observing  others  em- 


INHABITANTS  OF  THE  ALIIAMBEA.    71 

ployed  in  like  manner,  on  different  parts  of  the  bat 
tlements  and  bastions  ;  it  was  not  until  I  consulted 
Mateo  Ximenes  that  I  solved  the  mystery. 

It  seems  that  the  pure  and  airy  situation  of  this 
fortress  has  rendered  it,  like  the  castle  of  Macbeth, 
a  prolific  breeding-place  for  swallows  and  martlets 
who  sport  about  its  towers  in  myriads,  with  t''3 
holyday  glee  of  urchins  just  let  loose  from  school 
Tor  entrap  these  birds  in  their  giddy  cirr.lings,  with 
hooks  baited  with  flies,  is  one  of  the  favourice  amuse 
ments  of  the  ragg-id  "  Sons  of  the  Alhambra,"  who, 
with  the  good-for-nothing  ingenuity  of  arrant  idlers, 
have  thus  invented  the  art  oi*  angling  in  the  sky. 


THE  BALCONY. 

IN  the  Hall  of  Ambassadors,  at  the  central  win- 
1  dow,  there  is  a  balcony  of  which  I  have  already  made 
mention.  It  projects  like  a.  cage  from  the  face  of 
the  tower,  *Tiigh  in  mid-air,  above  the  tops  of  the 
trees  that  grow  on  the  steep  hill-side.  Ij;  answers 
me  as  a  kind  of  observatory,  where  I  often  take  my 
seat  to  consider,  not  merely  the  heavens  above,  but 
the  "earth  beneath."  Beside  the  magnificent  pros 
pect  which  it  commands,  of  mountain,  valley,  and 
Vega,  there  is  a  busy  little  scene  of  human  lite  laid 
open  to  inspection  immediately  below.  At  the  foot 
of  the  jjiU  is  an  alameda  or  public  walk,  which, 
though  fiol  so  fashionable  as  the  more  modern  and 
splendid  paseo  of  the  Xenil,  still  boasts  a  varied  and 
picturesque  concourse,  especially  on  holydays  and 
Sundays.  Hither  resort  the  small  gentry  of  the 
suburbs,  together  with  priests  and  friars  who  walk 
for  appetite  and  digestion  ;  majos  and  majas,  the 
beaux  and  belles  of  the  lower  classes  in  their  Anda- 
lusian  dresses ;  swaggering  contraband istas,  and 
sometimes  half-muffled  and  mysterious  loungers  of 
the  higher  ranks,  on  some  silent  assignation. 

It  is  a  moving  picture  of  Spanish  life  which  I  de- 
lign~t  to  study  ;  and  as  the  naturalist  has  his  micro 
scope  to  assist  him  in  his  curious  investigations,  so  I 
have  a  small  pocket  telescope  which  brings  the 
countenances  of  the  motley  groupes  so  close  as  al 
most  at  limes  to  make  me  think  I  can  divine  their 


THE  BALCONY.  T3 

conversation  by  the  play  and  expression  of  their 
features.  I  am  thus,  in  a  manner,  an  invisible  ob 
server,  and  without  quitting  my  solitude,  can  throw 
myself  in  an  instant  into  the  midst  of  society — a  rare 
advantage  to  one  of  somewhat  shy  and  quiet  habits. 

Then  there  is  a  considerable  suburb  lying  below 
the  Alhambra,  filling  the  narrow  gorge  of  the  valley, 
and  extending  up  the  opposite  hill  of  the  Albaycin. 
Many  of  the  houses  are  built  in  the  Moorish  style, 
round  patios  or  courts  cooled  by  fountains  and  open 
to  the  sky  ;  and  as  the  inhabitants  pass  much  of 
their  time  in  these  courts  and  on  the  terraced  roofs 
during  the  summer  season,  it  follows  that  many  a 
glance  at  their  domestic  life  may  be  obtained  by  an 
aerial  spectator  like  myself,  who  can  look  down  on 
them  from  the  clouds. 

I  enjoy,  in  some  degree,  the  advantages  of  the 
student  in  the  famous  old  Spanish  story,  who  beheld 
nil  Madrid  unroofed  for  his  inspection  ;  and  my  gos- 
sipping  squire  Mateo  Ximenes,  officiates  occasionally 
as  my  Asmodeus,  to  give  me  anecdotes  of  the  differ- 
<-v  mansions  and  their  inhabitants. 

i  prefer,  howe.v^r,  to  form  conjectural  histories  for 
myself;  and  thus  can  sit  up  aloft  for  hours,  weaving 
from  casual  incidents  and  indications  that  pass  under 
my  eye,  the  whole  tissue  of  schemes,  intrigues  and 
occupations,  carrying  on  by  certain  of  the  busy 
mortals  below  us.  There  is  scarce  a  pretty  face  or 
striking  figure  that  I  daily  see,  about  which  I  have 
not  thus  gradually  framed  a  dramatic  story ;  though 
some  of  my  characters  will  occasionally  act  in  direct 
opposition  to  the  part  assigned  them,  and  disconcert 
my  whole  drama. 

A  few  clays  since  as  I  was  reconnoitring  with  my 
g'.iss  the  streets  of  the  Albaycin,  I  beheld  the  pro 
cession  of  a  novice  about  to'  take  the  veil ;  and  re 
marked  various  circumstances  that  excited  the 
strongest  sympathy  in  the  fate  of  the  youthful  being 


7t  THE  ALIIAjfBRA. 

f!:us  about  to  be  consigned  to  a  living  tomb.  I  as 
certained,  to  my  satisfaction,  that  4)^  was  beautiful  ; 
and  by  the  paleness  oi  her  cheek,  that  she  was  a 
victim,  rather  than  a  votary,  fefce  was  arrayed  in 
bridal  garments,  and  drdced  with  a  chaplet  of  white 
flowers ;  but  her  heart  evidently  revolted  at  thii 
mockery  of  a  spiritual  union,  and  yearned  after  its 
earthly  loves.  A  tall  stem-looking  man  walked  near 
her  in  the  procession  ;  it  was  evidently  the  tyrannical 
felher,  who,  from  some  bigoted  or  sordid  motive, 
had  compelled  this  sacrifice.  Amidst  the  crowd  was 
a  dark,  handsome  youth,  in  Andalusian  garb,  who 
seemed  to  fix  on  her  an  eye  of  agony.  It  was  doubt 
less  the  secret  lover  from  whom  she  was  for  ever  to 
be  separated.  My  indignaticn  rose  as  I  noted  the 
malignant  exultation  painted  in  the  countenances  of 
the  attendant  monks  and  friars.  The  procession 
arrived  at  the  chapel  of  the  convent ;  the  sun 
gleamed  for  the  last  time  upon  the  chaplet  of  the 
poor  novice  as  she  crossed  the  fatal  threshold  and 
disappeared  fronT'sight.  The  thjpng  poured  in  with 
cowl  and  cross  and  minstrelsy. ""The  Ipver  paused 
for  a  moment  at  the  door;  I  could  understand  the 
tumult  of  his  feelings,  but  he  mastered  them  and 
entered.  There  was  a  long  interval — I  pictured  to 
myself  the  scene  passing  within. — The  poor  novice 
despoiled  of  her  transient  finery — clothed  in  the  con 
ventual  garb;  the  bridal  chaplet  taken  from  her 
brow ;  her  beautiful  head  shorn  of  its  long  silken 
tresses — 1  heard  her  murmur  the  irrevocable  vow — I 
saw  her  extended  on  her  bier ;  the  death  pall  spread 
over ;  the  funeral  service  performed  that  proclaimed 
her  dead  to  the  world  ;  her  sighs  were  drowned  in 
the  wailing  anthem  of  the  nuns  and  the  sepulchral 
tones  of  the  organ — the  father  looked,  unmoved, 
without  a  tear — the  lover — no — my  fancy  refused  to 
portray  the  anguish  of  the  lover — there  the  picture 
remained  a  blank. — The  ceremony  was  over :  the 


THE  BALCONY.  75 

crowd  again  issued  forth  to  behold  the  day  and 
mingle  in  the  joyous  stir  of  life— but  the  victim  with 
her  bridal  chaplet  was  no  longer  there — the  door  of 
the  convent  closed  tnat  secured  her  from  the  world 
for  ever.  I  saw  the  father  and  the  lover  issue  forth 
— they  were  in  earnest  conversation — the  young  man 
was  violent  in  his  gestures,  when  the  wall  of  a  house 
intervened  and  shut  them  from  my  sight. 

That  evening  I  noticed  a  solitary  light  twinkling 
from  a  remote  lattice  of  the  convent.  Thfine,  said  L, 
the  unhappy  novice  sits  weeping  in  her  cell,  while  hef 
lover  paces  the  street  below  in  unavailing  anguish. 

— The  officious  Mateo  interrupted  my  meditations 
and  destroyed,  in  an  instant,  the  cobweb  tissue  of  my 
fancy.  With  his^usual  zeal  he  had  gathered  facts 
concerning  the  scene  that  had  interested  me.  The 
heioine  of  my  romance  was  neither  young  nor  hand 
some — she  had  no  love — she  had  entered  the  con 
vent  of  her  own  free  will,  as  a  respectable  asylum, 
and  was  one  of  the  cheerfulest  residents  within  its 
walls  ! 

»  I  felt  at  first  half  vexed  with  the  nun  for  being 
thus  happy  in  her  cell,  in  contradiction  to  all  the  rules 
of  romance  ;  but  diverted  my  spleen  by  watching,  for 
a  day  or  two,  the  pretty  coquetries  of  a  dark-eyed 
brunette,  who,  from  the  covert  of  a  balcony  shrou  Jed 
with  flowering  shrubs  and  a  silken  awning,  was 
carrying  on  a  mysterious  correspondence  with  a 
handsome,  dark,  well-whiskered  cavalier  in  the 
street  beneath  her  window.  Sometimes  I  saw  him. 
at  an  early  hour,  stealing  forth,  wrapped  to  the  eyes 
in  a  mantle.  Sometimes  he  loitered  at  the  corner, 
in  various  disguises,  apparently  waiting  for  a  private 
signal  to  slip  into  the  bower.  Then  there  was  a 
tinkling  of  a  guitar  at  night,  and  a  lantern  shifted 
from  place  to  place  in  the  balcony.  I  imagined 
another  romantic  intrigue  like  that  of  Almaviva,  but 
was  again  disconcerted  in  all  my  suppositions  by 


78  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

being  informed  that  the  supposed  lover  was  the 
husband  of  the  lady,  and  a  noted  contrabandista . 
and  that  all  his  mysterious  signs  and  movements  had 
doubtless  some  smuggling  scheme  in  view. 

Scarce  had  the  gray  dawn  streaked  the  sky  and 
the  earliest  cock  crowed  from  the  cottages  of  the 
hill-side,  when  the  suburbs  gave  sign  of  reviving  ani 
mation  ;  for  the  fresh  hours  of  dawning  are  precious 
in  the  summer  season  in  a  sultry  climate.  All  are 
anxious  to  get  the  start  or  the  sun  in  the  business  of 
the  day.  The  muleteer  drives  forth  his  loaded  train 
for  the  journey  the  traveller  slings  his  carbine  be 
hind  his  saddle  and  mounts  his  steed  at  the  gate  of 
the  hostel.  The  brown  peasant  urges  his  loitering 
donkeys,  laden  with  panniers  of  sunny  fruit  and  fresh 
dewy  vegetables  for  already  the  thrifty  housewives 
are  hastening  to  the  market. 

The  sun  is  up  and  sparkles  along  the  valley, 
topping  the  transparent  foliage  of  the  groves.  The 
matin  bells  resound  melodiously  through  the  pure 
bright  air,  announcing  the  hour  of  devotion.  The 
muleteer  halts  his  burdened  animals  before  the 
chapel,  thrusts  his  staff  through  his  belt  behind,  and 
enters  with  hat  in  hand,  smoothing  his  coal  black 
hair,  to  hear  a  mass  and  put  up  a  prayer  for  a  pros 
perous  wayfaring  across  the  Sierra. 

And  Jiow  steals  forth  with  fairy  foot  the  gentle 
Senora.lrTtrim  busquina ;  with  restless. fan  in  hand 
and  dark  eye  flashing  from  beneath  her  gracefully 
folded  mantilla.  She  seeks  some  well  frequented 
church  to  offer  up  her  orisons  ,  but  the  nicely  ad 
justed  dress  ;  the  dainty  shoe  and  cobweb  stock 
ing  ;  the  raven  tresses  scrupulously  braided,  the 
fresh  plucked  rose  that  gleams  among  them  like  a 
gem,  show  that  earth  divides  with  heaven  the  em 
pire  of  her  thoughts. 

As  the  morning  advances,  the  din  of  labour  aug 
ments  on  every  side  ;  the  streets  are  thronged  with 


THE  BALCONY,  77 

nan  and  steed,  and  beast  of  burden  ;  the  universal 
movement  produces  a  hum  and  murmur  like  the 
surges  of  the  ocean.  As  the  sun  ascends  to  his 
meridian  the  hum  and  bustle  gradually  decline ; 
at  the  height  of  noon  there  is  a  pause  ;  the  panting 
city  sinks  into  lassitude,  and  for  several  hours  there 
is  a  general  repose.  The  windows  are  closed  ; 
the  curtains  drawn ;  the  inhabitants  retired  into 
the  coolest  recesses  of  their  mansions.  The  full- 
fed  monk  snores  in  his  dormitory.  The  brawny  por 
ter  lies  stretched  on  the  pavement  beside  his  bur 
den.  The  peasant  and  the  labourer  sleep  beneath 
the  trees  of  the  Ahmeda,  lulled  by  the  sultry  chirp 
ing  of  the  locust.  The  streets  are  deserted  except  by 
the  water  carrier,  who  refreshes  the  ear  by  pro 
claiming  the  merits  of  his  sparkling  beverage, — 
"  Colder  than  mountain  snow." 

As  the  sun  declines  there  is  again  a  gradual  re 
viving,  and  when  the  vesper  bell  rings  out  his  sink 
ing  knell,  all  nature  seems  to  rejoice  that  the  tyrant 
of  the  day  has  fallen. 

Now  begins  the  bustle  of  enjoyment.  The  citi- 
zenlPpour  forth  to  breathe  the  evening  air,  and 
revel  away  the  brief  twilight  in  the  walks  and  gar 
dens  of  the  Darro  and  the  Xenil. 

As  the  night  closes,  the  motley  scene  assumes 
new  features.  Light  after  light  gradually  twinkles 
forth  ;  here  a  taper  from  a  balconied  window ; 
there  a  votive  lamp  before  the  image  of  a  saint. 
Thus  by  degrees  the  city  emerges  from  the  per 
vading  gloom,  and  sparkles  with  scattered  lights 
like  the  starry  firmament.  Now  break  forth  from 
court,  and  garden,  and  street,  and  lane,  the  tink 
ling  of  innumerable  guitars  and  the  clicking  of  cas 
tanets,  blending  at  this  lofty  height,  in  a  faint  and 
general  concert.  "  Enjoy  the  moment,"  is  the 
creed  of  the  gay  and  amorous  Andalusian,  and  at. 
no  time  does  he  practise  it  more  zealously  than  in 


78  THE  AL1IAMBRA. 

the  balmy  nights  of  summer,  wooing  his  "mistress 
'»vith  the  dance,  the  love  ditty  and  the  passionate 
Serenade. 

I  was  seated  one  evening  in  the  balcony  enjoy 
ing  the  light  breeze  that  came  rustling  along  the 
side  of  the  hill  among  the  tree-tops,  when  my  hum 
ble  historiographer,  Mateo,  who  was  at  my  elbow, 
pointed  out  a  spacious  house  in  an  obscure  street  of 
the  Albaycin,  about  which  he  related,  as  nearly  as  I 
can  recollect,  the  following  anecdote  : 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF 
THE  MASON. 


There  was  once  upon  a  time  a  poor  mason,  or 
bricklayer  in  Granada,  who  kept  all  the  saints'  days 
and  holydays,  and  saint  Monday  into  the  bargain, 
and  yet,  with  all  his  devotion,  he  grew  poorer  and 
poorer,  and  could  scarcely  earn  bread  for  his  numer 
ous  family.  One  night  he  was  roused  from  his  first 
sleep  by  a  knocking  at  his  door.  He  opened  it 
and  beheld  before  him  a  tall,  meagre,  cadaverous- 
looking  priest.  "  Hark  ye,  honest  friend,"  said  the 
stranger,  "  I  have  observed  that  you  are  a  good 
Christian,  and  one  to  be  trusted ;  will  you  undertake 
a  job  this  very  night  ?  " 

"  With  all  my  heart,  Seiior  Padre,  on  condition 
that  I  am  paid  accordingly." 

"  That  you  shall  be,  but  you  must  suffer  yourself 
to  be  blindfolded." 

To  this  the  mason  made  no  objection  ;  so  being 
hoodwinked,  he  was  led  by  the  priest  through  vari 
ous  rough  lanes  and  winding  passages  until  they 
stopped  before  the  portal  of  a  house.  The  priest 
then  applied  a  key,  turned  a  creaking  lock  and 
opened  what  sounded  like  a  ponderous  door.  They 
entered,  the  door  was  closed  and  bolted,  and  the 
mason  was  conducted  through  an  echoing  corridor 
and  spacious  hall,  to  an  interior  part  of  the  building. 
Here  the  bandage  was  removed  from  his  eyes,  and 
he  found  himself  in  a  patio,  or  corn*,  dimly  lighted 
by  a  single  lamp. 


80  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

In  the  centre  was  a  dry  basin  of  an  old  Moorish 
fountain,  under  which  the  priest  requested  him  to 
form  a  small  vault,  bricks  and  mortar  being  at  hand  for 
the  purpose.  He  accordingly  worked  all  night,  but 
without  finishing  the  job.  Just  before  day-break 
the  priest  put  a  piece  of  gold  into  his  hand,  and  hav 
ing  again  blindfolded  him,  conducted  him  back  to 
his  dwelling. 

*'  Are  you  willing,"  said  he,  "  to  return  and  com 
plete  your  work  ?  " 

"Gladly,  Senor  Padre,  provided  I  am  as  well 
paid." 

"  Well,  then,  to-morrow  at  midnight  I  will  call 
again." 

He  did  so,  and  the  vault  was  completed.  "  Now," 
said  the  priest,  "  you  must  help  me  to  bring  forth 
the  bodies  that  are  to  be  buried  in  this  vault." 

The  poor  mason's  hair  rose  on  his  head  at  these 
words ;  he  iollowed  the  priest  with  trembling  steps, 
into  a  retired  chamber  of  the  mansion,  expecting 
to  behold  some  ghastly  spectacle  of  death,  but  was 
relieved,  on  perceiving  three  or  four  portly  jars 
standing  in  one  corner.  They  were  evidently  full  of 
money,  and  it  was  with  great  labour  that  he  and  the 
priest  carried  them  forth  and  consigned  them  to 
their  tomb.  The  vault  was  then  closed,  the  pave 
ment  replaced  and  all  traces  of  the  work  obliterated. 

The  mason  was  again  hoodwinked  and  led  forth 
by  a  route  different  from  that  by  which  he  had  come. 
After  they  had  wandered  for  a  long  time  through  a 
perplexed  maze  of  lanes  and  alleys,  they  halted.  The 
priest  then  put  two  pieces  of  gold  into  his  hand. 
'"""""Vv'ait  here,"  said  he,  "  until  you  hear  the  cathedral 
bell  toll  for  matins.  If  you  presume  to  uncover  your 
eyes  before  that  time,  evil  will  befall  you."  So  say 
ing  he  departed. 

The  mason  waited  faithfully,  amusing  himself  by 
weighing  the  gold  pieces  in  his  hand  and  clinking 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  MASON,    81 

.hem  against  each  other.  The  moment  the  cathe 
dral  bell  rung  its  matin  peal,  he  uncovered  his  eyes 
and  found  himself  on  the  banks  of  the  Xenil  ;  from 
whence  he  made  the  best  of  his  way  home,  and  rev 
elled  with  his  family  for  a  whole  fortnight  on  the 
profits  of  his  two  nights'  work,  after  which  he  was 
as  poor  as  ever.^x^' 

He  continued  to  work  a  little  and  pray  a  good  deal, 
and  keep  holydays  and  saints'  days  from  year  to  year, 
while  his  family  grew  up  as  gaunt  and  ragged  as  a 
crew  of  gipsies. 

As  he  was  seated  one  morning  at  the  door  of  his 
hovel,  he  was  accosted  by  a  rich  old  curmudgeon 
who  was  noted  for  owning  many  houses  and  being  a 
gjiping  landlord. 

The  man  of  money  eyed  him  for  a  moment,  from 
beneath  a  pair  of  shagged  eyebrows. 

"  J  am  told,  friend,  that  you  are  very  poor." 

"  There  is  no  denying  the  fact,  Seiior  ;  it  speaks 
for  itself." 

"  I  presume,  then,  you  will  be  glad  of  a  job,  and 
will  work  cheap." 

"  As  cheap,  my  master,  as  any  mason  in  Granada." 

"  That's  what  I  want.  I  have  an  old  house  fallen 
to  decay,  that  costs  me  more  money  than  it  is  worth 
to  keep  it  in  repair,  for  nobody  will  live  in  it ;  so  I 
must  contrive  to  patch  it  up  and  keep  it  together  at 
as  small  expense  as  possible." 

The  mason  was  accordingly  conducted  to  a  huge 
deserted  house  that  seemed  going  to  ruin.  Passing 
through  several  empty  halls  and  chambers,  he  en 
tered  an  inner  court,  where  his  eye  was  caught  by 
an  old  Moorish  fountain. 

He  paused  for  a  moment.  "  It  seems,"  said  he, 
"  as  if  I  had  been  in  this  place  before  ;  but  it  is  like 
a  dream. — Pray  who  occupied  this  house  formerly  ?  " 

"  A  pest  upon  him  !  "  cried  the  landlord.  "  It  was 
an  old  miserly  priest,  who  cared  for  nobody  but  him- 


82  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

self.  lie  was  said  to  be  immensely  rich, "and,  hav 
ing  no  relations,  it  was  thought  he  would  leave  all 
his  treasure  to  the  church.  He  died  suddenly,  and 
the  priests  and  friars  thronged  to  take  possession  of 
his  wealth,  but  nothing  could  they  find  but  a  few 
ducats  in  a  leathern  purse.  The  worst  luck  has 
fallen  on  me  ;  for  since  his  death,  the  old  fellow  con 
tinues  to  occupy  my  house  without  paving1  rent,  and 
there's  no  taking  the  law  of  a  ciead  man.  The 
people  pretend  to  hear  at  night  the  clinking  of  gold 
all  night  long  in  the  chamber  where  the  old  priest 
slept,  as  if  he  were  counting  over  his  money,  and 
sometimes  a  groaning  and  moaning  about  the  court. 
Whether  true  or  false  these  stories  have  brought  a  bad 
name  on  my  house,  and  not  a  tenant  will  remain  in  it." 

"  Enough,"  said  the  mason  sturdily — "  Let  me 
live  in  your  house  rent  free  until  some  better  tenant 
presents,  and  I  will  engage  to  put  it  in  repair  and 
quiet  the  troubled  spirits  that  disturb  it.  I  am  a 
good  Christian  and  a  poor  man,  and  am  not  to  be 
daunted  by  the  devil  himself,  even  though  he  come 
in  the  shape  of  a  big  bag  of  money." 

The  offer  of  the  honest  mason  was  gladly  ac 
cepted  ;  he  moved  with  his  family  into  the  house, 
and  fulfilled  all  his  engagements.  By  little  and  little 
he  restored  it  to  its  former  state.  The  clinking  of 
gold  was  no  longer  heard  at  night  in  the  chamber 
of  the  defunct  priest,  but  began  to  be  heard  by  day 
in  the  pocket  of  the  living  mason.  In  a  word,  he 
increased  rapidly  in  wealth,  to  the  admiration  of  all 
his  neighbours,  and  became  one  of  the  richest  men 
in  Granada.  He  gave  large  sums  to  the  ciiurch,  by 
way,  no  doubt,  of  satisfying  his  conscience,  and  never 
revealed  the  secret  of  the  wealth  until  on  his  death- 
oed,  to  his  son  and  heir. 


A  RAMBLE 
AMONG   THE  HILLS. 

I  FREQUENTLY  amuse  myself  towards  the  close 
of  the  day,  when  the  heat  has  subsided,  with  taking 
long  rambles  about  the  neighbouring1  hills  and  the 
deep  umbrageous  valleys,  accompanied  by  my  his 
toriographer  Squire  Mateo,  to  whose  passion  for 
fossiping,  I,  on  such  occasions,  give  the  most  un- 
ounded  license  ;  and  there  is  scarce  a  rock  or  ruin, 
or  broken  fountain,  or  lonely  glen,  about  which  he 
has  not  some  marvellous  story ;  or,  above  all,  some 
golden  legend ;  for  never  was  poor  devil  so  munifi 
cent  in  dispensing  hidden  treasures. 

A  few  evenings  since  we  took  a  long  stroll  of  the 
kind,  in  which  Mateo  was  more  than  usually  com 
municative.  It  was  towards  sunset  that  we  sallied 
forth  from  the  great  Gate  of  Justice,  and  ascending 
an  alley  of  trees,  Mateo  paused  under  a  clump  of  fig 
and  pomegranate  trees  at  the  foot  of  a  huge  ruined 
tower,  called  the  Tower  of  the  Seven  Vaults,  (de  los 
siete  suelos.)  Here,  pointing  to  a  low  archway  at 
the  foundation  of  the  tower,  he  informed  me,  in  an 
under  tone,  was  the  lurking-place  of  a  monstrous 
sprite  or  hobgoblin  called  the  Belludo,  which  had 
infested  the  tower  ever  since  the  time  of  the  Moors ; 
guarding,  it  is  supposed,  the  treasures  of  a  Moorish 
king.  Sometimes  it  issues  forth  in  the  dead  of  the 
night,  and  scours  the  avenues  of  the  Alhambra  and 
the  streets  of  Granada  in  the  shape  of  a  headless 
horse,  pursued  by  six  dogs,  with  terrific  yells  and 
bowlings. 


84  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

"But  have  you  ever  met  with  it  yourself,  Mateo, 
in  any  of  your  rambles  ?  " 

"No,  sefior;  but  my  grandfather,  the  tailor,  knew 
several  persons  who  had  seen  it;  for  it  went  shout 
much  more  in  his  time  than  at  present:  sometimes* 
in  one  shape,  sometimes  in  another.  Every  body  in 
Granada  has  heard  of  the  Belludo,  for  the  old  women 
and  nurses  frighten  the  children  with  it  when  they 
cry.  Some  say  it  is  the  spirit  of  a  cruel  Moorish 
king,  who  killed  his  six  sons,  and  buried  them  in 
these  vaults,  and  that  they  hunt  him  at  nights  in 
revenge." 

Mateo  went  on  to  tell  many  particulars  about  this 
redoutable  hobgoblin,  which  has,  in  fact,  been  time 
out  of  mind  a  favourite  theme  of  nursery  tale  and 
popular  tradition  in  Granada,  and  is  mentioned  in 
some  of  the  antiquated  guide-books.  When  he  had 
finished,  we  passed  on,  skirting  the  fruitful  orchards 
of  the  Generaliffe  ;  among  the  trees  of  which  two 
or  three  nightingales  were  pouring  forth  a  rich  strain 
of  melody.  Behind  these  orchards  we  passed  a 
number  of  Moorish  tanks,  wilh  a  door  cut  into  the 
rocky  bosom  of  the  hill,  but  closed  up.  These  tanks 
Mateo  informed  me  were  favourite  bathing-places 
of  himself  and  his  comrades  in  boyhood,  until  fright 
ened  away  by  a  story  of  a  hideous  Moor,  who  used 
to  issue  forth  from  the  door  in  the  rock  to  entrap 
unwary  bathers. 

Leaving  these  haunted  tanks  behind  us,  we  pur 
sued  our  ramble  up  a  solitary  mule-path  that  wound 
among  the  hills,  and  soon  found  ourselves  amidst 
wild  and  melancholy  mountains,  destitute  of  trees, 
and  here  and  there  tinted  with  scanty  verdure. 
Every  thing  within  sight  was  severe  and  sterile,  and 
it  was  scarcely  possible  to  realize  the  idea  that  'rut 
a  short  distance  behind  us  was  the  Generalise,  with 
its  blooming  orchards  and  terraced  gardens,  and 
that  we  were  in  the  vicinity  of  delicious  G 


A  RAMBLE  AMONG  THE  HILLS.       85 

that  city  of  groves  at-.d  fountains.  But  such  is  the 
nature  of  Spain — wild  and  stern  the  moment  it  es 
capes  from  cultivation,  the  desert  and  the  garden 
arc  ever  side  by  side. 

The  narrow  delile  up  which  we  were  passing  is 
railed,  according  to  Mateo,  el  Barranco  de  la  Ti- 
ia;a,  or  the  ravine  of  the  jar. 

'•'  And  why  so,  Mateo  ?  "  inquired  I. 

"  Because,  seiior,  a  jar  full  of  Moorish  gold  was 
fc'ind  here  in  old  times."  The  brain  of  poor  Mateo 
£s  continually  running  upon  these  golden  legends. 

"  Bu"  \\.\a\.  is  the  meaning  of  the  cross  1  see  yon 
der  upon  a  heap  of  stones  in  that  narrow  part  of  the 
ravine?  " 

"  Oh  !  that's  nothing — a  muleteer  was  murdered 
there  some  years  since." 

"  So  then,  Mateo,  you  have  robbers  and  murder 
ers  even  at  the  gates  of  the  Alhambra." 

"  Not  at  present,  senor — that  was  formerly,  when 
there  used  to  be  many  loose  fellows  about  the  for 
tress  ;  but  they've  all  been  \vceded  out.  Not  but 
that  the  gipsies,  who  live  in  caves  in  the  hill-sides 
j  jst  out  of  the  fortress,  are,  many  of  them,  fit  for 
any  thing ;  but  we  have  had  no  murder  about  here 
for  a  long  time  past.  The  man  who  murdered  the 
muleteer  was  hanged  in  the  fortress." 

Our  path  continued  up  the  barranco,  with  a  bold, 
rugged  height  to  our  left,  called  the  Silla  c^l  Moro, 
or  chair  of  the  Moor  ;  from  a  tradition  that  the  un 
fortunate  Boabdil  tied  thither  during  a  popular  in 
surrection,  and  remained  all  day  seated  on  the 
rocky  summit,  looking  mournfully  down  upon  his 
factious  city. 

We  at  length  arrived  on  the  highest  part  of  the 
promontory  above  Granada,  called  the  Mountain  of 
the  Sun.  The  evening  was  approaching;  the  set 
ting  sun  just  gilded  the  loftiest  heights.  Here  and 
there  a  solitary  sh-^herd  irr'ght  be  descried  driving 


86  THE  ALHAHBRA. 

his  flock  down  the  declivities  to  be  folded  for  the 
night,  or  a  muleteer  and  his  lagging  animals  thread 
ing  some  mountain  path,  to  arrive  at  the  city  gates 
before  nightfall. 

Presently  the  deep  tones  of  the  cathedral  bell 
came  swelling  up  the  defiles,  proclaiming  the  hour 
of  Oracion,  or  prayer.  The  note  was  responded  to 
from  the  belfry  of  every  church,  and  from  the  sweet 
bells  of  the  convents  among  the  mountains.  The 
shepherd  paused  on  the  fold  of  the  hill,  the  muleteer 
in  the  midst  of  the  road  ;  each  took  off  his  hat,  and 
remained  motionless  for  a  time,  murmuring  his  even 
ing  prayer.  There  is  always  something  solemn  and 
pleasing  in  this  custom  ;  by  which,  at  a  melodious 
signal,  every  human  being  throughout  the  land,  re 
cites,  at  the  same  .moment,  a  tribute  of  thanks  to 
God  for  the  mercies  of  the  clay.  It  diffuses  a  tran 
sient  sanctity  over  the  land,  and  the  sight  of  the  sun 
sinking  in  all  his  glory,  adds  not  a  little  to  the  so 
lemnity  of  the  scene.  In  the  present  instance,  the 
effect  was  heightened  by  the  wild  and  lonely  nature 
of  the  place.  We  were  on  the  naked  and  broken 
summit  of  the  haunted  Mountain  of  the  Sun,  where 
ruined  tanks  and  cisterns,  and  the  mouldering  foun 
dations  of  extensive  buildings,  spoke  of  former  popu- 
lousness,  but  where  all  was  now  silent  and  desolate. 

As  we  were  wandering  among  these  traces  of  old 
times,  Mateo  pointed  out  to  me  a  circular  pit,  that 
seemed  to  penetrate  deep  into  the  bosom  of  the 
mountain.  It  was  evidently  a  deep  well,  dug  by  the 
indefatigable  Moors,  to  obtain  their  favourite  ele 
ment  in  its  greatest  purity.  Mateo,  however,  had  a 
different  story,  and  much 'more  to  his  humour.  This 
was,  according  to  tradition,  an  entrance  to  the  sub 
terranean  caverns  of  the  mountain,  in  which  Boab- 
dil  and  his  court  lay  bound  in  mag;c  spell ;  and  from 
whence  they  sallied  forth  at  night,  at  allotted  times, 
to  revisit  their  ancient  abodes. 


A  7M3/7?/:/:  A.VOXG  THE  HILLS. 


87 


The  deepening-  twilight,  which  in  this  climate  is 
of  such  short  cluiation,  admonished  us  to  leave  this 
'•minted  gronnd,  As  WP  descended  the.  mountain 
defiles,  there  was  no  longer  herdsman  or  muleteer  to 
be  seen,  nor  any  thing  to  be  heard  but  our  own  foot 
steps  and  the  lonely  chirping-  of  the  cricket.  The 
shadows  of  the  valleys  grew  deeper  and  deeper,  until 
all  was  dark  around  us.  The  iofty  summit  of  the 
Sierra  Nevada  alone  retained  a  lingering-  gleam  cf 
day-light,  its  snowy  peaks  glaring"  against  the  cLuk 
blue  firmament  ;  and  seeming  close  to  us,  from  the 
extreme  purity  of  the  atmosphere. 

"How  near  the  Sierra  looks  this  evening  !"  said 
Mateo,  "  it  seems  as  if  you  could  touch  it  with  your 
hand,  and  yet  it  is  many  long'  leagues  off."  While 
he  was  speaking  a  star  appeared  over  the  snowy 
summit  of  the  mountain,  the  only  one  yet  visible  in 
the  heavens,  and  so  pure,  so  large,  so  bright  and 
beautiful  as  to  call  forth  ejaculations  of  delight  from 
honest  Mateo. 

"  Que  lucero  hermoso  !  —  que  claro  y  limpio  es  !  — 
no  pueda  ser  lucero  mas  brillante  !  "- 

(What  a  beautiful  star  !  how  clear  and  lucid  !  —  no 
star  could  be  more  brilliant  !) 

I  have  often  remarked  this  sensibility  of  the  com 
mon  people  of  Spain  to  the  charms  of  natural  objects 
—The  lustre  of  a  star  —  the  beauty  or  fragrance  of  a 
flower  —  the  crystal  purity  of  a  fountain,  will  inspire 
them  with  a  kind  of  poetical  delight  —  and  then  what 
euphonous  words  their  magnificent  language  affords, 
with  which  to  give  utterance  to  their  transports  ! 

"  But  what  lights  are  those,  Mateo,  which  I  see 
twinkling  along  the  Sierra  Nevada,  just  below  the 
snowy  region,  and  which  might  be  taken  for  stars, 
only  that  they  are  ruddy  and  against  the  dark  side 
of  the  mountain  ?  " 

"  Those,  Seaor,  are  fires  made  by  the  men  who 
gather  snow  and  ice  for  the  supply  of  Granada, 


83  TEE  ALHAMBjRA. 

They  go  up  every  afternoon  with  mules  and  asses, 
and  take  turns,  some  to  rest  and  warm  themselves 
by  the  fires,  while  others  fill  their  panniers  with  ice. 
They  then  set  off  down  the  mountain,  so  as  to  reach 
the  gates  of  Granada  before  sunrise.  That  Sierra 
Nevada,  Senor,  is  a  lump  of  ice  in  the  middle  of  An 
dalusia,  to  keep  it  all  cool  in  summer." 

It  was  now  completely  dark;  we  were  passing 
through  the  barranco  where  stood  the  cross  of  the 
murdered  muleteer,  when  I  beheld  a  number  of 
lights  moving  at  a  distance  and  apparently  advanc 
ing  up  the  ravine.  On  nearer  approach  they  proved 
tc/be  torches  borne  by  a  train  of  uncouth  figures 
arrayed  in  black  ;  it  would  have  been  a  procession 
dreary  enough  at  any  time,  but  was  peculiarly  so  in 
this  wild  and  solitary  place. 

Mateo  drew  near  and  told  me  in  a  low  voice,  that 
it  was  a  funeral  train  bearing  a  corpse  to  the  burying 
ground  among  the  hills. 

As  the  procession  passed  by,  the  lugubrious  light 
of  the  torches,  falling  on  the  ruggfed  features  anJ 
funereal  weeds  of  the  attendants,  had  the  most  fan 
tastic  eifect,  but  was  perfectly  ghastly  as  it  revealed 
the  countenance  of  the  corpse,  which,  according  to 
Spanish  custom,  was  borne  uncovered  on  an  open 
bier.  I  remained  for  some  time  gazing  after  the 
dreary  train  as  it  wound  up  the  dark  defile  of  the 
mountain.  It  put  me  in  mind  of  the  old  story  of  a 
procession  of  demons,  bearing  the  body  of  a  sinner 
up  the  crater  of  Stromboli. 

"  Ah,  Senor,"  cried  Mateo,  "  I  could  tell  ynu.  a  story 
of  a  procession  once  seen  among  these  mount  lins — 
but  then  you  would  laugh  at  me,  and  say  it  was  one 
of  the  legacies  of  my  grandfather  the  tailor." 

"By  no  means,  Mateo.  There  is  nothing  I  relish 
more  than  a  marvellous  tale." 

"  Well,  Senor,  it  is  about  one  r-f  those  very  men 
we  have  been  talking  of,  who  gather  snow  on  the 


A  RAMBLE  AMONG  THE  HILLS.       89 

Sierra  Nevada.  You  must  know  that  a  great  many 
years  since,  in  my  grandfather's  time,  there  was  an 
old  feliow,  Tio  Nicolo  by  name,  who  had  filled  the 
panniers  of  his  mules  with  snow  and  ice,  and  was 
returning  down  the  mountain.  Being  very  drowsy, 
ne  mounted  upon  the  mule,  and  soon"  falling  asleep, 
went  with  his  head  nodding  and  bobbing  about  from 
side  to  side,  while  his  sure-footed  old  mule  stepped 
along  the  edge  of  precipices,  and  down  steep  and 
broken  barrancos  just  as  safe  and  steady  as  if  it  had 
been  on  plain  ground.  At  length  Tio  Nicolo  awoke, 
and  gazed  about  him,  and  rubbed  his  eyes — and  in 
good  truth  he  had  reason — the  moon  shone  almost 
as  bright  as  day,  and  he  saw  the  city  below  him,  as 
plain  as  your  hand,  and  shining  with  its  white 
buildings  like  a  silver  platter  in  the  moonshine  ;  but 
lord  !  Sefior  ! — it  was  nothing  like  the  city  he  left  a 
few  hours  before.  Instead  of  the  cathedral  with  its 
great  dome  and  turrets,  and  the  churches  with  their 
spires,  and  the  convents  with  their  pinnacles  all  sur 
mounted  with  the  blessed  cross,  he  saw  nothing  but 
Moorish  mosques,  and  minarets,  and  cupolas,  all 
topped  off  with  glittering  crescents,  such  as  you  see 
on  the  Barbary  (lags.  Well,  Sefior,  as  you  may  sup 
pose,  Tio  Nicolo  was  mightily  puzzled  at  all  this, 
but  while  he  was  gazing  down  upon  the  city,  a  great 
army  came  marching  up  the  mountain;  winding 
along  the  ravines,  sometimes  in  the  moonshine, 
sometimes  in  the  shade.  As  it  drew  nigh,  he  saw 
that  there  were  horse  and  foot,  all  in  Moorish  armour. 
Tio  Nicolo  tried  to  scramble  out  of  their  way,  but 
his  old  mule  stood  stock  still  and  refused  to  budge, 
trembling  at  the  same  time  like  a  leaf — for  dumb 
beasts,  Sefior,  are  just  as  much  frightened  at  such 
things  as  human  beings.  Well,  Sefior,  the  hobgoblin 
army  came  marching  by ,  there  were  men  that 
seemed  to  blow  trumpets,  nnd  others  to  beat  drums 
and  strike  cymbals,  }et  never  a  sound  did  they  make  ; 


THE  ALIIAMBEA 

they  ail  moved  on  without  the  least  iioiac,  just  a.s  * 
have  seen  painted  armies  move  across  the'stage  in 
•  :  theatre  of  Granada,  and  ail  looked  as  pale  as 
a_ath.  At  last  in  the  rear  of  the  army,  between  two 
black  Moorish  horsemen,  rode  the  grand  inquisitor 
of  Granada,  on  a  mule  as  white  as  snow.  Tio  Nicolo 
wondered  to  see  him  in  such  company ;  for  the  in 
quisitor  was  famous  for  his  hatred  of  Moors,  and  in 
deed  of  ail  kinds  of  infidels,  Jew"  and  heretics,  and 
used  to  hunt  them  out  with  tire  and  scourge — how 
ever,  Tio  Nicolo  felt  himself  safe,  now  that  there  was 
a  priest  of  such  sanctity  at  hand.  So,  making  the  sign 
of  the  cross,  he  called  out  for  his  benediction,  when 
— hombre  !  he  received  a  blow  that  sent  him  and  his 
old  mule  over  the  edge  of  a  steep  bank,  down  which 
they  rolled,  head  over  heels,  to  the  bottom.  Tio 
Nicolo  did  not  come  to  his  senses  until  long  after 
sunrise,  when  he  found  himself  at  the  bottom  of  a 
deep  ravine,  his  mule  grazing  beside  him,  and  his 
panniers  of  snow  completely  melted.  He  crawled 
back  to  Granada  sorely  bruised  and  battered,  and 
was  glad  to  find  the  city  looking  as  usual,  with 
Christian  churches  and  crosses.  When  he  told  the 
story  of  his  night's  adventure  every  one  laughed  at 
him :  some  said  he  had  dreamt  it  all,  as  he  dozed  on 
his  mule,  others  thought  it  ail  a  fabrication  of  his  own. 
But  what  was  strange,  Senor,  and  made  people 
afterwards  think  more  seriously  of  the  matter,  was, 
that  the  grand  inquisitor  died  within  the  year.  I 
have  often  heard  my  grandfather,  the  tailor,  say  that 
there  was  more  meant  by  that  hobgoblin  army  bear 
ing  off  the  resemblance  of  the  priest,  than  folks 
dared  to  surmise." 

"  Then  you  would  insinuate,  friend  Mateo,  that 
there  is  a  kind  of  Moorish  limbo,  or  purgatory,  in 
the  bowels  of  these  mountains  ;  to  which  the  padre 
inquisitor  was  borne  off." 


A  RAMBLE  AMONG  THE  HILLS.       91 

"  God  forbid — Senor  ! — I  know  nothing  of  the  mat 
ter—I  only  relate  what  I  heard  from  my  grandfather." 

By  the  time  Mateo  had  finished  trie  tale  which  I 
have  more  succinctly  related,  and  which  was  inter 
larded  with  many  comments,  and  spun  out  with 
minute  details,  we  reached  the  gate  of  the  Al- 
hambra. 


THE 


COUR1    OF  LIONS. 

THE  peculiar  charm  of  this  old  dreamy  palace,  is 
its  power  of  calling  up  vague  reveries  and  picturin.gs 
of  the  past,  and  thus  clothing  naked  realities  with 
the  illusions  of  the  memory  and  the  imagination. 
As  I  delight  to  walk  in  these  "vain  shadows,"  I  am 
prone  to  seek  those  parts  of  the  Alhambra  which 
are  most  favourable  to  this  phantasmagoria  of  the 
mind  ,  and  none  are  more  so  than  the  Court  of  Li 
ons  and  its  surrounding  halls.  Here  the  hand  of  time 
has  fallen  the  lightest,  and  the  traces  of  Moorish 
elegance  and  splendour  exist  in  almost  their  orig 
inal  brilliancy.  Earthquakes  have  shaken  the 
foundations  of  this  pile,  and  rent  its  rudest  towers, 
yet  see — not  one  of  those  slender  columns  has  been 
displaced,  not  an  arch  of  that  light  and  fragile  col 
onnade  has  given  way,  and  ail  the  fairy  fretwork  of 
these  domes,  apparently  as  unsubstantial  as  the  crys 
tal  fabrics  of  a  morning's  frost,  yet  exist  after  the 
lapse  of  centuries,  almost  as  fresh  as  if  from  the 
hand  of  the  Moslem  artist. 

I  write  in  the  midst  of  these  mementos  of  the 
past,  in  the  fresh  hour  of  early  morning,  in  the  fated 
hall  of  the  Abencerrages.  The  blood-stained  foun 
tain,  the  legendary  monument  of  their  massacre,  is 
before  me ;  the  lofty  jet  almost  casts  its  dew  upon 
my  paper.  How  difficult  to  reconcile  the  ancient 
tale  of  violence  and  blood,  with  the  gentle  and 
peaceful  scene  around.  Everything  here  appear 


THE  COURT  OP  LIONS.  C.j 

calculated  to  inspire  kind  and  liappy  feelings,  for 
every  thing1  is  delicate  and  beautiful.  The  very 
light  falls  tenderly  from  above,  through  the  lantern 
of  a  dome  tinted  and  wrought  as  if  by  fairy  hands. 
Through  the  ample  and  fretted  arch  of  the  portal,  I 
behold  the  Court  of  Lions,  with  brilliant  sunshine 
gleaming  along  its  colonnades  and  sparkling  in  its 
fountains.  The  lively  swallow  dives  into  the  court, 
and  then  surging  upwards,  darts  away  twittering 
over  the  roof;  the  busy  bee  toils  humming  among 
the  flower  beds,  and  painted  butterflies  hover  from 
plant  to  plant,  and  flutter  up,  and  sport  with  each 
other  in  the  sunny  air. — It  needs  but  a  slight  exer 
tion  of  the  fancy  to  picture  some  pensive  beauty  of 
the  harem,  loitering  in  these  secluded  haunts  of  ori 
ental  luxury. 

He,  however^  who  would  behold  this  scene  under 
an  aspect  more  in  unison  with  its  fortunes,  let  him. 
come  when  the  shadows  of  evening  temper  the 
brightness  of  the  court  and  throw  a  gloom  into  the 
surrounding  halls, — then  nothing  can  be  more  se 
renely  melancholy,  or  more  in  harmony  with  the  tale 
of  departed  grandeur. 

At  such  times  I  am  apt  to  seek  the  Hall  of  Jus 
tice,  whose  deep  shadowy  arcades  extend  acrosf  the 
upper  end  of  the  court.  Here  were  performed,  ;n 
presence  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  and  their  tn- 
umphant  court,  the  pompous  ceremonies  of  high 
mass,  on  taking  possession  of  the  Alhambra.  The, 
very  cross  is  still  to  be  seen  upon  the  wall,  where  the 
altar  was  erected,  and  where  officiated  the  gran* 
cardinal  of  Spain,  and  others  of  the  highest  religious 
dignitaries  of  the  land. 

I  picture  *o  myself  the  scene  when  this  place  wai 
filled  with  the  conquering  host,  that  mixtuie  of  mi 
tred  prelate,  and  shorn  monk,  and  steel-clad  knight, 
and  silken  courtier :  when  crosses  and  croziers  and 
tdkjicus  standards  were  mingled  with  proud  armo- 


94  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

rial' ensigns  and  the  banners  of  the  haughty  chiefs  of 
Spain,  and  flaunted  in  triumph  through  these  Mos 
lem  halls.  I  picture  to  myself  Columbus,  the  future 
discoverer  of  a  world,  taking  his  modest  stand  in  a 
remote  corner,  the  humble  and  neglected  spectator 
of  the  pageant.  I  see  in  imagination  the  Catholic 
sovereigns  prostrating  themselves  before  the  altar 
and  pouring  forth  thanks  for  their  victory,  while  the 
vaults  resound  with  sacred  minstrelsy  and  the  deep- 
toned  Te  Deum. 

The  transient  illusion  is  over— the  pageant  melts 
from  the  fancy — monarch,  priest,  and  warrior  return 
into  oblivion,  with  the  poor  Moslems  over  whom 
they  exulted.  The  hall  of  their  triumph  is  waste 
and  desolate.  The  bat  flits  about  its  twilight  vaults, 
and  the  owl  hoots  from  the  neighbouring  tower  of 
Comares.  The  Court  of  the  Lions  has  also  its  share 
of  supernatural  legends.  I  have  already  mentioned 
the  belief  in  the  murmuring  of  voices  and  clanking 
of  chains,  made  at  night  by  the  spirits  of  the  mur 
dered  Abencerrages.  Mateo  Ximenes,  a  few  even 
ings  since,  at  one  of  the  gatherings  in  Dame  An- 
tonia's  apartment,  related  a  fact  which  happened 
within  the  knowledge  of  his  grandfather,  the  legend 
ary  tailor.  There  was  an  invalid  soldier,  who  had 
charge  of  the  Alhambra,  to  show  it  to  strangers. 
As  he  was  one  evening  about  twilight  passing 
through  the  Court  cf  Lions,  he  heard  footsteps  in 
the  Hall  of  the  Abencerrages.  Supposing  some 
loungers  to  be  lingering  there,  he  advanced  to  at 
tend  upon  them,  when,  to  his  astonishment,  he  be 
held  four  Moors  richly  dressed,  with  gilded  cuirasses 
and  scimitars,  and  poniards  glittering  with  precious 
stones.  They  were  walking  to  and  fro  with  solemn 
pace,  but  paused  and  beckoned  to  him.  The  old 
soldier,  however,  took  to  flight ;  and  could  never  aft 
erwards  be  prevailed  upon  to  enter  the  Alhambra. 
Thus  it  is  that  men  sometimes  turn  their  backs  upon 


THE  COURT  OF  LIONS.  95 

fortune ;  for  it  is  the  firm  opinion  of  Mateo  that  the 
Moors  intended  to  reveal  the  place  where  their  treas 
ures  lay  buried.  A  successor  to  the  invalid  soldier 
was  more  knowing ;  he  came  to  the  Alhambra  poor, 
but  at  the  end  of  a  year  went  off  to  Malaga,  bought 
horses,  set  up  a  carriage,  and  still  lives  there,  one  of 
the  righest  as  well  as  oldest  men  of  the  place :  all 
which,  Mateo  sagely  surmises,  was  in  consequence 
of  his  finding  out  the  golden  secret  of  these  phantom 
Moors. 

On  entering  the  Court  of  the  Lions,  a  few  even 
ings  since,  I  was  startled  at  beholding  a  turbanecl 
Moor  quietly  seated  near  the  fountain.  It  seemed, 
for  a  moment,  as  if  one  of  the  stories  of  Mateo  Xi- 
menes  were  realized,  and  some  ancient  inhabitant 
of  the  Alhambra  had  broken  the  spell  of  centuries, 
and  become  visible.  It  proved,  however,  to  be  a 
mere  ordinary  mortal ;  a  native  of  Tetuan  in  Barbary, 
who  had  a  shop  in  the  Zacatin  of  Granada,  where 
he  sold  rhubarb,  trinkets,  and  perfumes.  As  he 
spoke  Spanish  fluently,  I  was  enabled  to  hold  con 
versation  with  him,  and  found  him  shrewd  and  in 
telligent.  He  told  me  that  he  came  up  the  hill 
occasionally  in  the  summer,  to  pass  a  part  of  the  day 
in  the  Alhambra,  which  reminded  him  cf  the  old 
palaces  in  Barbary,  which  were  built  and  adorned 
in  similar  style,  though  with  less  magnificence. 

As  we  walked  about  the  palace  he  pointed  out 
several  of  the  Arabic  inscriptions,  as  possessing 
much  poetic  beauty. 

"Ah!  Senor,"  said  he,  "when  the  Moors  held 
Granada,  they  were  a  gayer  people  than  they  are 
uow-a-days.  They  thought  only  of  love,  of  music, 
TICJ  of  poetry.  They  made  stanzas  upon  every  oc 
casion,  and  set  them  all  to  music.  He  who  could 
make  the  best  verses,  and  she  who  had  the  most 
tuneful  voice,  might  be  sure  of  favour  and  prefer 
ment.  In  those  days,  if  any  one  asked  for  bread 


06  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

the  reply  was,  'Make  me  a  couplet ;  *  and  tne  poor 
est  beggar,  if  he  begged  in  rhyme,  would  often  be 
rewarded  with  a  piece  of  gold." 

"And  is  the  popular  feeling  for  poetry,"  said  t, 
"  entirely  lost  among  you  ?  " 

"By  no  means,  Sefior;  the  people  of  Barbery, 
even  those  of  the  lower  classes,  still  make  couplets, 
and  good  ones  too,  as  in  the  old  time,  but  talent  is 
not  rewarded  as  it  was  then  :  the  rich  prefer  the 
jingle  of  their  gold  to  the  sound  of  poetry  or  music." 

As  he  was  talking,  his  eye  caught  one  of  the 
inscriptions  that  foretold  perpetuity  to  the  power 
and  glory  of  the  Moslem  monarchs,  the  masters  of 
the  pile.  He  shook  his  head  and  shrugged  his 
shoulders  as  he  interpreted  it.  "  Such  might  have 
been  the  case,"  said  he ;  "  the  Moslems  might  still 
have  been  reigning  in  the  Alhambra,  had  not 
Boabdil  been  a  traitor,  and  given  up  his  capitol  to 
the  Christians.  The  Spanish  monarchs  would 
never  have  been  able  to  conquer  it  by  open  force." 

I  endeavoured  to  vindicate  the  memory  of  the 
unlucky  Boabdil  from  this  aspersion,  and  to  show 
that  the  dissensions  which  led  to  the  downfall  of  the 
Moorish  throne,  originated  in  the  cruelty  of  his 
tiger-hearted  father ;  but  the  Moor  would  admit  of 
no  palliation. 

"  Abul  Hassan,"  said  he,  "  might  have  been  cruel, 
but  he  was  brave,  vigilant,  and  patriotic.  Had  he 
been  properly  seconded,  Granada  would  still  have 
been  ours ;  but  his  son  Boabdil  thwarted  his  plans, 
crippled  his  power,  sowed  treason  in  his  palace,  and 
dissension  in  his  camp.  May  the  curse  of  God  light 
upon  him  for  his  treachery."  With  these  words  ths 
Moor  left  the  Alhambra. 

The  indignation  of  my  turbaned  companion  agrees 
with  an  anecdote  related  by  a  friend,  who,  in  the 
course  of  a  tour  in  Barbary,  had  an  interview  with 
the  pasha  of  Tetuan.  The  Moorish  governor  was 


THE  COURT  OF  LIONS.  9? 

particular  in  his  inquiries  about  the  soil,  the  climate 
and  resources  of  Spain,  and  especially  concerning 
the  favoured  regions  of  Andalusia,  the  delights  of 
Granada  and  the  remains  of  its  royal  palace.  The 
replies  awakened  all  those  fond  recollections,  so 
deeply  cherished  by  the  Moors,  of  the  power  and 
splendour  of  their  ancient  empire  in  Spain.  Turning 
to  his  Moslem  attendants,  the  pasha  stroked  his 
beard,  and  broke  forth  in  passionate  lamentations 
that  such  a  sceptre  should  have  fallen  from  the  sway 
of  true  believers.  He  consoled  himself,  however, 
with  the  persuasion,  that  the  power  and  prosperity 
of  the  Spanish  nation  were  on  the  decline  ;  that  a 
time  would  come  when  the  Moors  would  reconquer 
their  rightful  domains;  and  that  the  day  was, 
perhaps,  not  far  distant,  when  Mohammedan  wor 
ship  would  again  be  offered  up  in  the  mosque  of 
Cordova,  and  a  Mohammedan  prince  sit  on  his 
throne  in  the  Alhambra. 

Such  is  the  general  aspiration  and  belief  among 
the  Moors  of  Barbary ;  who  consider  Spain,  and 
especially  Andalusia,  their  rightful  heritage,  of  which 
they  have  been  despoiled  by  treachery  and  violence. 
These  ideas  are  fostered  and  perpetuated  by  the 
descendants  of  the  exiled  Moors  of  Granada,  scatter 
ed  among  the  cities  of  Barbary.  Several  of  these 
reside  in  Tetuan,  preserving  their  ancient  names, 
such  as  Paez,  and  Medina,  and  refraining  from  inter 
marriage  with  any  families  who  cannot  claim  the 
same  high  origin.  Their  vaunted  lineage  is  regarded 
with  a  degree  of  popular  deference  rarely  shown  in 
Mohammedan  communities  to  any  hereditary  dis 
tinction  except  in  the  royal  line. 

These  families,  it  is  said,  continue  to  sigh  after 
the  terrestrial  paradise  of  their  ancestors,  and  to  put 
jp  prayers  in  their  mosques  on  Fridays,  imploring 
Allah  to  hasten  the  time  when  Granada  shall  be 
restored  to  the  faithful ;  an  event  to  which  they  look 


98  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

forward  as  fondly  and  confidently  as  did  the  Chris 
tian  crusaders  to  the  recovery  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre. 
Nay,  it  is  added,  that  some  of  them  retain  the  an 
cient  maps  and  deeds  of  the  estates  and  gardens  of 
their  ancestors  at  Granada,  and  even  the  keys  of  the 
houses ;  holding  them  as  evidences  of  their  hered 
itary  claims,  to  be  produced  at  the  anticipated  day 
of  restoration. 


BOABDIL  EL   CHICO. 

MY  conversation  with  the  Moor  in  the  Court  of 
Lions  set  me  to  musing  on  the  singular  fate  of  Bo- 
.ibdil.  Never  was  surname  more  applicable  than 
that  bestowed  upon  him  by  his  subjects,  of  "  El 
Zogoybi,"  or,  "  the  unlucky."  His  misfortunes  began 
almost  in  his  cradle.  In  his  tender  youth  he  was 
Imprisoned  and  menaced  with  death  by  an  inhuman 
father,  and  only  escaped  through  a  mother's  strata 
gem  ;  in  after  years  his  life  was  imbittered  and  re 
peatedly  endangered  by  the  hostilities  of  a  usurping 
uncle  ;  his  reign  was  distracted  by  external  invasions 
and  internal  feuds ;  Le  was  alternately  the  foe,  the 
prisoner,  the  friend,  and  always  the  dupe  of  Ferdi 
nand,  until  conquered  and  dethroned  by  the  min 
gled  craft  and  force  of  that  perfidious  monarch.  An 
exile  from  his  native  land,  he  took  refuge  with  one 
of  the  princes  of  Africa,  and  fell  obscurely  in  battle 
fighting  in  the  cause  of  a  stranger.  His  misfortunes 
ceased  not  with  his  death.  If  Boabdil  cherished  a 
desire  to  leave  an  honourable  name  on  the  historic 
pige,  how  cruelly  has  he  been  defrauded  of  his 
hopes  .  Who  is  there  that  has  turned  the  least  at 
tention  to  the  romantic  history  of  the  Moorish  dom 
ination  in  Spain,  without  kindling  with  indignation 
at  the  alleged  atrocities  of  Boabdil  ?  Who  has  not 
been  touched  with  the  woes  of  his  lovely  and  gentle 
queen,  subjected  by  him  to  a  trial  of  life  and  death, 
on  a  false  charge  of  infidelity  ?  Who  has  not  been 


100  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

shocked  by  the  alleged  murder  of  his  sister  and  her 
two  children,  in  a  transport  of  passion?  Who  has 
not  felt  his  blood  boil  at  the  inhuman  massacre  of 
the  gallant  Abencerrages,  thirty-six  of  whom,  it  is  af 
firmed,  he  caused  to  be  beheaded  in  the  Court  of  the 
Lions  ?  All  these  charges  have  been  reiterated  in 
various  forms ;  they  have  passed  into  ballads,  dramas, 
and  romances,  until  they  have  taken  too  thorough 
possession  of  the  public  mind  to  be  eradicated. 

There  is  not  a  foreigner  of  education  that  visits 
.ne  Alhambra,  but  asks  for  the  fountain  where  the 
Abencerrages  were  beheaded  ;  and  gazes  with  hor 
ror  at  the  grated  gallery  where  the  queen  is  said  to 
nave  been  confined  ;  not  a  peasant  of  the  Vega  or 
the  Sierra,  but  sings  the  story  in  rude  couplets  to  the 
accompaniment  of  his  guitar,  while  his  hearers  learn 
to  execrate  the  very  name  of  Boabdil. 

Never,  however,  was  name  more  foully  and  un 
justly  slandered.  I  have  examined  all  the  authentic 
chronicles  and  letters  written  by  Spanish  authors 
contemporary  with  Boabdil ;  some  of  whom  were  in 
the  confidence  of  the  Catholic  sovereigns,  and  act 
ually  present  ir  the  camp  throughout  the  war;  I 
have  examined  all  the  Arabian  authorities  I  could 
get  access  to  through  the  medium  of  translation, 
and  can  find  nothing  to  justify  these  dark  and  hate 
ful  accusations. 

The  whole  of  these  tales  may  be  traced  to  a  work 
commonly  called  "The  Civil  Wars  ot  Granada," 
containing  a  pretended  history  of  th  e  feuds  of  the 
Zegries  and  Abencerrages  during  the  last  struggle 
of  the  Moorish  empire.  This  work  appeared  origi 
nally  in  Spanish,  and  professed  to  be  translated  from 
the  Arabic  by  one  Gines  Perez  de  Hita,  an  inhabit 
ant  of  Murcia.  It  has  since  passed  into  various 
languages,  and  Florian  has  taken  from  it  much  ol 
the  fable  of  his  Gonsalvo  of  Cordova.  It  has,  in  ? 
great  measure,  usurped  the  authority  of  real  history, 


BOABDIL  EL  CUICO.  101 

and  is  currently  believed  by  the  people,  and  especi 
ally  the  peasantry  of  Granada.  The  whole  of  it, 
however,  is  a  mass  of  fiction,  mingled  with  a  few 
disfigured  truths,  which  give  it  an  air  of  veracity.  It 
bears  internal  evidence  of  its  falsity,  the  manners 
and  customs  of  the  Moors  being  extravagantly  mis 
represented  in  it,  and  scenes  depicted  totally  in 
compatible  with  their  habits  and  their  faith,  and 
which  never  could  have  been  recorded  by  a  Ma 
hometan  writer. 

I  confess  there  seems  to  me  something  almost 
criminal  in  the  wilful  perversions  of  this  work, 
Great  latitude  is  undoubtedly  to  be  allowed  to  ro 
mantic  fiction,  but  there  are  limits  which  it  must  not 
pass,  and  the  names  of  the  distinguished  dead, 
which  belong  to  history,  are  no  more  to  be  calum 
niated  than  those  of  the  illustrious  living.  One 
would  have  thought,  too,  that  the  unfortunate  Boab- 
dil  had  suffered  enough  for  his  justifiable  hostility 
to  Spaniards,  by  being  stripped  of  his  kingdom, 
without  having  his  name  thus  wantonly  traduced 
and  rendered  a  bye-word  and  a  theme  of  infamy  in 
his  native  land,  and  in  the  very  mansion  of  his 
fathers ! 

It  is  not  intended  hereby  to  affirm  that  the  trans 
actions  imputed  to  Boabdil  are  totally  without 
historic  foundation,  but  as  far  as  they  can  be  traced, 
they  appear  to  have  been  the  arts  of  his  father,  Abul 
Hassan,  who  is  represented,  by  both  Christian  and 
Arabian  chroniclers,  as  being  of  a  cruel  and  fero 
cious  nature.  It  was  he  who  put  to  death  the 
cavaliers  of  the  illustrious  line  of  the  Abencerrages, 
upon  suspicion  of  their  being  engaged  in  a  conspir 
acy  to  dispossess  him  of  his  throne. 

The  story  of  the  accusation  of  the  queen  of  Bo 
abdil,  and  of  her  confinement  in  one  of  the  towers, 
may  also  be  traced  to  an  incident  in  the  life  of  his 
tiger-hearted  father.  Abul  Hassan,  in  his  advanced 


- 102  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

age,  married  a  beautiful  Christian  captive  of  no 
ble  descent,  who  took  the  Moorish  appellation  of 
Zorayda,  by  whom  he  had  two  sons.  She  was  of 
an  ambitious  spirit,  and  anxious  that  her  children 
should  succeed  to  the  crown.  For  this  purpose 
she  worked  upon  the  suspicious  temper  of  the  king  ; 
inflaming  him  with  jealousies  of  his  children  by  his 
other  wives  and  concubines,  whom  she  accused  of 
plotting  against  his  throne  and  life.  Some  of  them 
were  slain  by  the  ferocious  father.  Ayxa  la  Horra, 
the  virtuous  mother  of  Boabdil,  who  had  once  been 
his  cherished  favourite,  became  likewise  the  object 
of  his  suspicion.  He  confined  her  and  her  son  in  the 
tower  of  Gomares,  and  would  have  sacrificed  Bcab- 
dil  to  his  fury,  but  that  his  tender  mother  lowered 
him  from  the  tower,  in  the  night,  by  means  of  the 
scarfs  of  herself  and  her  attendants,  and  thus  enabled 
him  to  escape  to  Guadix. 

Such  is  the  only  shadow  of  a  foundation  that  I  can 
find  for  the  story  of  the  accused  and  captive  queen  ; 
and  in  this  it  appears  that  Boabdil  was  the  per 
secuted  instead  of  the  persecutor. 

Throughout  the  whole  of  his  brief,  turbulent, 
and  disastrous  reign,  Boabdil  gives  evidences  of  a 
mild  and  amiable  character.  He  in  the  first  in 
stance  won  the  hearts  of  the  people  by  bis  affa 
ble  and  gracious  manners  ;  he  was  always  peacea 
ble,  and  never  Inflicted  any  severity  of  punishment 
upon  those  who  occasionally  rebelled  against  him. 
He  was  personally  brave,  but  he  wanted  moral 
courage,  and  in  times  of  difficulty  and  perplexity, 
was  wavering  and  irresolute.  This  feebleness  of 
spirit  hasteneJ  his  downfall,  while  it  deprived  him 
of  that  heroic  grace  which  would  have  given  a 
grandeur  and  dignity  to  his  fate,  and  rendered  him 
worthy  of  closing  the  splendid  drama  of  the  Moslem 
domination  in  Spain. 


MEMENTOS    OF 
BOABDIL. 

WHILE  my  mind  was  still  warm  with  the  subject 
of  the  unfortunate  Boabdil,  I  set  forth  to  trace 
the  mementos  connected  with  his  story,  which  yet 
exist  in  this  scene  of  his  sovereignty  and  his  misfor 
tunes.  In  the  picture  gallery  of  the  Palace  of  the 
Generaliffe,  hangs  his  portrait.  The  face  is  mild, 
handsome  and  somewhat  melancholy,  with  a  fair 
complexion  and  yellow  hair ;  if  it  be  a  true  repre 
sentation  of  the  man,  he  may  have  been  wavering 
and  uncertain,  but  there  is  nothing  of  cruelty  or  un- 
kindness  in  his  aspect. 

I  next  visited  the  dungeon  wherein  he  was  con 
fined  in  his  youthful  days,  when  his  cruel  father 
meditated  his  destruction.  It  is  a  vaulted  room 
in  the  tower  of  Comares,  under  the  Hall  of  Am 
bassadors.  A  similar  room,  separated  by  a  narrow 
passage,  was  the  prison  of  his  mother,  the  virtuous 
Ayxa  la  Horra.  The  walls  are  of  prodigious  thick 
ness,  and  the  small  windows  secured  by  iron  bars. 
A  narrow  stone  gallery,  with  a  low  parapet,  extends 
round  three  sides  of  the  tower  just  below  the 
windows,  but  at  a  considerable  height  from  the 
ground.  From  this  gallery,  it  is  presumed,  the 
queen  lowered  her  son  with  the  scarfs  of  herself 
and  her  female  attendants,  during  the  darkness  of 
night,  to  the  hill-side,  at  the  foot  of  which  waited  a 
domestic  with  a  fleet  steed  to  bear  the  prince  to  the 
mountains. 


104  THE  ALIIAMBRA. 

As  I  paced  this  gallery,  my  imagination  pictured 
the  anxious  queen  leaning  over  the  parapet,  and 
listening,  with  the  throbbings  of  a  mother's  heart,  to 
the  last  echo  of  the  horses'  hoofs,  as  her  son  scoured 
along  the  narrow  valley  of  the  Darro. 

My  next  search  was  for  the  gate  by  which  Bo- 
abdjl  departed  from  the  Alhambra,  when  about  to 
surrender  his  capital.  With  the  melancholy  ca 
price  of  a  broken  spirit,  he  requested  of  the  Catho 
lic  monarchs  that  no  one  afterwards  might  be  per 
mitted  to  pass  through  this  gate.  His  prayer, 
according  to  ancient  chronicles,  was  complied  with, 
through  the  sympathy  of  Isabella,  and  the  gate 
walled  up.  For  some  time  I  inquired  in  vain  for 
such  a  portal ;  at  length  my  humble  attendant, 
Mateo,  learned  among  the  old  residents  of  the 
fortress,  that  a  ruinous  gateway  still  existed,  by 
which,  according  to  tradition,  the  Moorish  king  had 
left  the  for>ress,  but  which  had  never  been  open 
within  the  memory  of  the  oldest  inhabitant. 

He  conducted  me  to  the  spot.  The  gateway  is  in 
the  centre  of  what  was  once  an  immense  tower, 
called  la  Torre  de  los  Siete  Suelos,  or,  the  Tower  of 
the  Seven  Moors.  It  is  a  place  famous  in  the  super 
stitious  stories  of  the  neighbourhood,  for  being  the 
scene  OL  strange  apparitions  and  Moorish  enchant 
ments. 

This  once  redoubtable  tower  is  now  a  mere 
wreck,  having  been  blown  up  with  gunpowder,  by 
the  French,  when  they  abandoned  the  fortress. 
Great  masses  of  the  wall  lie  scattered  about,  buried 
in  the  luxuriant  herbage,  or  overshadowed  by  vines 
and  fig-trees.  The  arch  of  the  gateway,  though  rent 
by  the  shock,  still  remains  ;  but  the  last  wish  of  poor 
Boabdil  has  been  again,  though  unintentionally,  ful 
filled,  for  the  portal  has  been  closed  up  by  loose 
stones  gathered  from  the  ruins,  and  remains  im 
passable. 


MEMENTOS  OF  BOABDIL.  105 

Following  up  the  route  of  the  Moslem  monarch  as 
it  remains  on  record,  I  crossed  cm  horseback  the  hill 
of  Les  Martyrs,  keeping  along  the  garden  of  the 
convent  of  the  same  name,  and  thence  down  a  rug 
ged  ravine,  beset  by  thickets  of  aloes  and  Indian  figs, 
and  lined  by  caves  and  hovels  swarming  with  gip 
sies.  It  was  the  road  taken  by  Boabdil  to  avoid 
passing  through  the  city.  The  descent  was  so  steep 
and  broken  that  I  was  obliged  to  dismount  and  lead 
my  horse. 

Emerging  from  the  ravine,  and  passing  by  the 
Puerta  de  los  Molinos,  (the  Gate  of  the  Mills,)  I  is 
sued  forth  upon  the  public  promenade,  called  the 
Prado,  and  pursuing  the  course  of  the  Xenil,  arrived 
at  a  small  Moorish  mosque,  now  converted  into  the 
chapel,  or  hermitage  of  San  Sebastian.  A  tablet  on 
the  wall  relates  that  on  this  spot  Boabdil  surrendered 
the  keys  of  Granada  to  the  Castilian  sovereigns 

From  thence  I  rode  slowly  across  the  Vega  10  a 
village  where  the  family  and  household  of  the  un 
happy  king  had  awaited  him  :  for  he  had  sent  them 
forward  on  the  preceding  night  from  the  Alhambra, 
that  his  mother  and  wife  might  not  participate  in  his 
personal  humiliation,  or  be  exposed  to  the  gaze  of 
the  conquerors. 

Following  on  in  the  route  of  the  melancholy  band 
of  royal  exiles,  I  arrived  at  the  foot  of  a  chain  of  bar 
ren  and  dreary  heights,  forming  the  skirt  of  the  Al- 
puxarra  mountains.  From  the  summit  of  one  of 
these,  the  unfortunate  Boabdil  took  his  last  look  at 
Granada.  It  bears  a  name  expressive  of  his  sorrows 
— La  Cuesta  de  las  Lagrimas,  (the  Hill  of  Tears.) 
Beyond  it  a  sandy  road  winds  across  a  rugged  cheei- 
less  waste,  doubly  dismal  to  the  unhappy  monarch, 
as  it  led  to  exile ;  behind,  in  the  distance,  lies  the 
"enamelled  Vega,"  with  the  Xenil  shining  among 
its  bowers,  and  Granada  beyond. 

I  spurred  my  horse  to  the  summit  of  a  rock,  where 


106  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

Boabdil  uttered  his  last  sorrowful  exclamation,  as  he 
turned  his  eyes  from  taking  their  farewell  gaze.  It 
is  still  denominated  el  ultimo  suspiro  del  Moro,  (the 
last  sigh  of  the  Moor.)  Who  can  wonder  at  his  an 
guish  at  being  expelled  from  such  a  kingdom  and 
such  an  abode  ?  With  the  Alhambra  he  seemed  to 
be  yielding  up  all  the  honours  of  his  line,  and  all  the 
glories  and  delights  of  life. 

It  was  here,  too,  that  his  affliction  was  imbittered 
by  the  reproach  of  his  mother  Ayxa,  who  had  so 
often  assisted  him  in  times  of  peril,  and  had  vainly 
sought  to  instil  into  him  her  own  resolute  spirit. 
"  You  do  well,"  said  she,  "  to  weep  as  a  woman 
over  what  you  could  not  defend  as  a  man  !  " — A 
speech  that  savours  more  of  the  pride  of  the  princess, 
than  the  tenderness  of  the  mother. 

When  this  anecdote  was  related  to  Charles  V.,  by 
Bishop  Guevara,  the  emperor  joined  in  the  expres 
sion  of  scorn  at  the  weakness  of  the  wavering  Boab- 
di).  "Had  I  been  he,  or  he  been  I,"  said  ihe 
haughty  potentate,  "  I  would  rather  have  made  this 
Alhambra  my  sepulchre,  than  have  lived  without  a 
kingdom  in  the  Alpuxarras." 

How  easy  it  is  for  them  in  power  and  prosperity 
to  preach  heroism  to  the  vanquished  !  How  little 
can  they  understand  that  life  itself  may  rise  in  value 
with  the  unfortunate,  when  naught  but  life  remains. 


THE  TOWER 
OF   LAS   INFANTAS. 

IN  an  evening';;  stroll  up  a  narrow  glen,  over 
shadowed  by  fig-trees,  pomegranates  and  myrtles, 
fhat  divides  the  land  of  the  fortress  from  those  of 
the  Generaliffe,  I  was  struck  with  the  romantic  ap 
pearance  of  a  Moorish  tower  in  the  outer  wall  of  the 
Alhambra,  that  rose  high  above  the  tree-tops,  and 
caught  the  ruddy  rays  of  the  setting,  sun.  A  solitary 
window,  at  a  great  height,  commanded  a  view  of  the 
glen,  and  as  I  was  regarding  it  a  young  female 
looked  out,  with  her  head  adorned  with  flowers.  She 
was  evidently  superior  to  the  usual  class  of  people 
that  inhabit  the  old  towers  of  the  fortress  ;  and  this 
sudden  and  picturesque  glimpse  of  her,  reminded  me 
of  the  descriptions  of  captive  beauties  in  fairy  tales. 
The  fanciful  associations  of  my  mind  were  increased 
on  being  informed  by  my  attendant,  Mateo,  that  this 
was  the  tower  of  the  Princesses,  (la  Torre  de  las  In 
fantas)  so  called  from  having  been,  according  to  tradi 
tion,  the  residence  of  the  daughters  of  the  Moorish 
kings.  I  have  since  visited  the  tower.  It  is  not 
generally  shown  to  strangers,  though  well  worthy 
attention,  for  the  interior  is  equal  for  beauty  of  archi 
tecture  and  delicacy  .of  ornament,  to  any  part  of  the 
palace.  The  elegance  of  its  central  hall  with  its 
marble  fountain,  its  lofty  arches  and  richly  fretted 
dome;  the  arabesques  and  stucco  work  of  the  small, 
but  well  proportioned  chambers,  though  injured  by 
time  and  neglect,  all  accord  with  the  story  of  its 
being  anciently  the  abode  of  royal  beauty. 


THE  ALHAMBRA. 

The  little  old  fairy  queen  who  lives  under  the 
staircase  of  the  Alhambra,  and  frequents  the  even 
ing  .  tertulias  of  Dame  Antofia,  tells  some  fanciful 
traditions  about  three  Moorish  princesses  who  were 
;  c  shut  up  in  this  tower  by  their  father,  a  tyrant 
'-.ing  of  Granada,  and  were  only  permitted  to  ride 
out  at  night  about  the  hills,  when  no  one  was  per 
mitted  to  come  in  their  way,  under  pain  of  death. 
They  still,  according  to  her  account,  may  be  seen 
occasionally  when  the  moon  is  in  the  full,  riding 
in  lonely  places  along  the  mountain  side,  on  palfreys 
richly  caparisoned,  and  sparkHng  with  jewels,  but 
they  vanish  on  being  spoken  to. 

— But  before  I  relate  any  thing  farther  respecting 
these  princesses,  the  reader  may  be  anxious  to  know 
something  about  the  fair  inhabitant  of  the  tower  with 
her  head  drest  with  flowers,  who  looked  out  from 
the  lofty  window.  She  proved  to  be  the  newly 
married  spouse  of  the  worthy  adjutant  of  invalids  ; 
who,  though  well  stricken  in  years,  had  had  the 
courage  to  take  to  his  bosom  a  young  and  buxom 
Andalusian  damsel.  May  the  good  old  cavalier  be 
happy  in  his  choice,  and  find  the  tower  of  the  Prin 
cesses  a  more  secure  residence  for  female  beauty 
than  it  seems  to  have  proved  in  the  time  of  the 
Moslems,  if  we  may  believe  the  following  legend. 


THE  HOUSE  OF 
THE    WEATHER    COCK. 

ON  the  brow  of  the  lofty  hill  of  the  Albaycin,  the 
highest  part  of  the  city  of  Granada,  stand  the  remains 
of  what  was  once  a  royal  palace,  founded  shortly 
aftei  the  conquest  of  Spain  by  the  Arabs.  It  is  now 
converted  into  a  manufactory,  and  has  fallen  into 
such  obscurity  that  it  cost  me  much  trouble  to  find 
it,  notwithstanding  that  I  had  the  assistance  of  the 
sagacious  and  all-knowing  Mateo  Ximenes.  This 
edifice  still  bears  the  name  by  ^vhich  it  has  been 
known  for  centuries,  namely,  la  Casa  del  Gallo  dc 
Viento ;  that  is,  the  House  of  the  Weathercock. 

It  was  so  called  from  a  bronze  figure  of  a  warrior 
on  horseback,  armed  with  shield  and  spear,  erected 
on  one  of  its  turrets,  and  turning  with  every  wind ; 
bearing  an  Arabic  motto,  which,  translated  into 
Spanish,  was  as  follows  : 

Dici  el  Sabio  Aben  Hafcuz 
Que  asi  se  defiende  el  Anduluz, 

In  this  way,  says  Aben  Habuz  the  wise, 
The  Andalusian  his  foe  defies. 

This  Aben  Habuz  was  a  captain  who  served  in 
the  invading  army  of  Taric,  and  was  left  as  alcayde 
of  Granada.  He  is  supposed  to  have  intended  this 
warlike  effigy  as  a  perpetual  memorial  to  the  Moorish 
inhabitants,  that  surrounded  as  they  were  by  foes, 


110  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

and  subject  to  sudden  invasion,  their  safety  depended 
upon  being  always  ready  for  the  field. 

Other  traditions,  however,  give  a  different  account 
of  this  Aben  Habuz  and  his  palace,  and  affirm  that 
his  bronze  horseman  was  originally  a  talisman  of 
great  virtue,  though  in  after  ages  it  lost  its  magic 
properties  and  degenerated  into  a  weathercock. 
The  following  are  the  traditions  alluded  to. 


THE 

LEGEND  OF  THE 
ARABIAN  ASTROLOGER 

IN  old  times,  many  hundred  years  ago,  there  was 
a  Moorish  king  named  Aben  Kabuz,  who  reigned 
over  the  kingdom  of  Granada.  He  was  a  retired 
conqueror,  that  is  to  say,  one  who,  having  in  his 
more  youthful  days  led  a  life  of  constant  foray  and 
depredation,  now  that  he  was  grown  old  and  super 
annuated,  "languished  for  repose,"  and  desired 
nothing  more  than  to  live  at  peace  with  all  tho 
world,  to  husband  his  laurels,  and  to  enjoy  in  quiet 
the  possessions  he  had  wrested  from  his  neighbours. 

It  so  happened,  however,  that  this  most  reason 
able  and  pacific  old  monarch  had  young  rivals  to  deal 
with — princes  full  of  his  early  passion  for  fame  and 
fighting,  and  who  had  some  scores  to  settle  which 
he  had  run  up  with  their  fathers  ;  he  had  also  some 
turbulent  and  discontented  districts  ot  his  own  terri 
tories  among  the  Alpvtxarra  mountains,  which,  dur 
ing  the  days  of  his  vigour,  he  had  treated  with  a 
high  hand  ;  and  which,  now  that  he  languished  fcr 
repose,  were  prone  to  rise  in  rebellion  and  to  threaten 
to  march  to  Granada  and  drive  him  from  his  throne. 
To  make  the  matter  worse,  as  Granada  is  surrounded 
by  wild  and  craggy  mountains  which  hide  the  ap 
proach  of  an  enemy,  the  unfortunate  Aben  Habuz 
was  kept  in  a  constant  state  of  vigilance  and  alarm, 
not  knowing  in  what  quarter  hostilities  might  break 
out. 


112  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

It  was  in  vain  that  he  built  watch-towers  on  tho 
mountains  and  stationed  guards  at  every  pass,  with 
orders  to  make  fires  by  night,  and  smoke  by  day,  on 
the  approach  of  an  enemy.  His  alert  foes  would  baffle 
every  precaution,  and  come  breaking-  out  of  some 
unthought-of  defile, — ravage  his  lands  beneath  his 
very  nose,  and  then  make  off  with  prisoners  and 
booty  to  the  mountains.  Was  ever  peaceable  and 
retired  conqueror  in  a  more  uncomfortable  predica 
ment  ! 

While  the  pacific  Aben  Habuz  was  harassed  by 
these  perplexities  and  molestations,  an  ancient 
Arabian  physician  arrived  at  his  court.  His  gray 
beard  descended  to  his  girdle,  aud  he  Lad  every 
mark  of  extreme  age,  yet  he  had  travelled  almost 
the  whole  way  from  Egypt  on  foot,  with  no  other 
aid  than  a  staff  marked  with  hieroglyphics.  His 
fame  had  preceded  him.  His  name  was  Ibrahim  Ebn 
Abu  Ayub ;  he  was  said  to  have  lived  ever  since  the 
days  of  Mahomet,  and  to  be  the  son  of  Abu  Ayub, 
the  last  of  the  companions  of  the  prophet.  He  had, 
when  a  child,  followed  the  conquering  army  of  Amru 
•nto  Egypt,  where  he  had  remained  many  years 
studying  the  dark  sciences,  and  particularly  magic, 
among  the  Egyptian  priests.  It  was  moreover  said 
that  he  had  found  out  the  secret  of  prolonging  life, 
by  means  of  which  he  had  arrived  to  the  great  age 
of  upwards  of  two  centuries  ;  though,  as  he  did  not 
discover  the  secret  until  well  stricken  in  years,  he 
could  only  perpetuate  his  gray  hairs  and  wrinkles. 

This  wonderful  old  man  was  very  honourably  en 
tertained  by  the  king;  who,  like  most  superannu 
ated  monarchs,  began  to  take  physicians  into  great 
favour.  He  would  have  assigned  him  an  apartment 
in  his  palace,  but  the  astrologer  preferred  a  cave  in 
the  side  of  the  hill,  which  rises  above  the  city  of 
Granada,  being  the  same  on  which  the  Alhambra 
has  since  been  built.  He  caused  the  cave  to  be  en- 


THE  ARABIAN  ASR  TOL  0  GER,        113 

larged  so  as  to  form  a  spacious  and  lofty  hall  with 
a  circular  hole  at  the  top,  through  which,  as  through 
a  well,  he  could  see  the  heavens  and  behold  the  stars 
even  at  mid-day.  The  walls  of  this  hall  were  cov 
ered  with  Egyptian  hieroglyphics,  with  cabalistic 
symbols,  and  with  the  figures  of  the  stars  in  their 
signs.  This  hall  he  furnished  with  many  imple 
ments,  fabricated  under  his  direction  by  cunning 
artificers  of  Granada,  but  the  occult  properties  of 
which  were  only  known  to  himself.  In  a  little  while 
tiae  sage  Ibrahim  became  the  bosom  counsellor  of 
the  king,  to  whom  he  applied  for  advice  m  every 
emergency.  A  ben  Habuz  was  once  inveighing 
against  the  injustice  of  his  neighbours,  and  bewailing 
the  restless  vigilance  he  had  to  observe  to  guard 
himself  against  their  invasions ; — when  he  had  fin 
ished,  the  astrologer  remained  silent  for  a  moment, 
&nd  then  replied,  "  Know,  O  king,  that  when  I  was 
in  Egypt  I  beheld  a  great  marvel  devised  by  a  pagan 
priestess  of  old.  On  a  mountain  above  the  city  of 
Borsa,  and  overlooking  the  great  valley  of  the  Nile, 
was  a  figure  of  a  ram,  and  above  it  a  figure  of  a 
cock,  both  of  molten  brass  and  turning  upon  a  pivot. 
Whenever  the  country  was  threatened  with  invasion, 
ihe  ram  would  turn  in  the  direction  of  the  enemy 
and  the  cock  would  crow  ;  upon  this  the  inhabitants 
of  the  city  knew  of  the  danger,  and  of  the  quarter 
from  which  it  was  approaching,  and  could  take 
timely  notice  to  guard  against  it." 

"God  is  great !  "  exclaimed  the  pacific  Aben  Ha 
buz  ;  "  what  a  treasure  would  be  such  a  ram  to  keep 
an  eye  upon  these  mountains  around  me,  and  then 
such  a  cock  to  crow  in  time  of  danger  !  Allah  Ach- 
bar  !  how  securely  I  might  sleep  in  my  palace  with 
such  sentinels  ©n  the  top  ! " 

"  Listen,  O  king,"  continued  the  astrologer  gravely. 
"  When  the  victorious  Amru  (God's  peace  be  upon 
him  !)  conquered  the  city  of  Borsa,  this  talisman  was 


114  THE  ALHAM  RA. 

destroyed;  but  I  was  present,  and  v    ;  -ained  it,  and 
.studied  its  secret  and  mystery,  and  can  make  one  of 
like,  and  even  of  greater  virtues." 

"  O  wise  son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  cried  Aben  Habuz, 
"  better  were  such  a  talisman  than  all  the  watch- 
towers  on  the  hills,  and  sentinels  upon  the  borders. 
Give  me  such  a  safeguard,  and  the  riches  of  my  treas 
ury  are  at  thy  command." 

The  astrologer  immediately  set  to  work  to  gratify 
the  wishes  of  the  monarch,  shutting  himself  up  in 
his  astrological  hall,  and  exerting  the  necromantic 
arts  he  had  learnt  in  Egypt,  he  summoned  to  his  as 
sistance  the  siyirits  and  de'nons  of  the;  Nile.  By  his 
command  they  transported  to  his  presence  a  rnummj 
from  a  sepulchral  chamber  in  the  centre  of  one  of 
the  Pyramids.  It  was  the  mummy  of  the  pries' 
who  had  aided  by  magic  art  in  rearing  that  stupend 
ous  pile. 

The  astrologer  opened  the  outer  cases  of  the 
mummy,  and  unfolded  its  many  wrappers.  On  the 
breast  of  the  corpse  was  a  book  written  in  Chaldaic 
characters.  He  seized  it  with  trembling  hand,  then 
returning  the  mummy  to  its  case,  ordered  the  de 
mons  to  transport  it  again  to  its  dark  and  silent 
sepulchre  in  the  Pyramid,  there  to  await  the  final 
day  of  resurrection  and  judgment. 

This  book,  say  the  traditions,  was  the  book  oJ 
knowledge  given  by  God  to  Adam  after  his  fall,  ft 
had  been  handed  down  from  generation  to  genera 
tion,  to  king  Solomon  the  Wise,  and  by  the  aid  of 
the  wonderful  secrets  in  magic  and  art  revealed  in 
it,  he  had  built  the  temple  of  Jerusalem.  How  it 
had  come  into  the  possession  of  the  builder  of  the 
Pyramids,  He  only  knows  who  knows  all  things. 

Instructed  by  this  mystic  volume,  and  aided  by 
the  genii  which  it  subjected  to  his  command,  the 
astrologer  soon  erected  a  great  tower  upon  the  top 
of  the  palace  of  Aben  Habuz,  which  stood  on  the 


THE  ARABIAN  ASTROLOGER.   115 

brow  of  the  hill  of  the  Albaycin.  The  tower  was 
built  of  stones  brought  from  Egypt,  and  taken,  it  is 
said,  from  one  of  the  Pyramids.  In  the  upper  part 
of  the  tower  was  a  circular  hall,  with  windows  look 
ing  toward  ever)'  point  of  the  compass,  and  before 
each  window  was  a  table,  on  which  was  arranged, 
as  on  a  chess-board,  a  mimic  army  of  horse  and 
foot,  with  the  effigy  of  the  potentate  that  ruled  in 
that  direction ;  all  carved  of  wood.  To  each  of 
these  tables  there  was  a  small  lance,  no  bigger  than  a 
bodkin,  on  which  were  engraved  certain  mysterious 
Chaldaic  characters.  This  hall  was  kept  constantly 
closed  by  a  gate  of  brass  with  a  great  lock  of  steel, 
the  key  of  which  was  in  possession  of  the  king. 

On  the  top  of  the  tower  was  a  bronze  figure  of  a 
Moorish  horseman,  fixed  on  a  pivot,  with  a  shield  on 
.one  arm,  and  his  lance  elevated  perpendicularly. 
The  face  of  this  horseman  was  towards  the  city,  as 
if  keeping  guard  over  it ;  but  if  any  foe  were  at  hand, 
the  figure  would  turn  in  that  direction  and  would 
level  the  lance  as  if  for  action. 

When  this  talisman  was  finished,  Aben  Habuz 
was  all  impatient  to  try  its  virtues ;  and  longed  as 
ardently  for  an  invasion  as  he  had  ever  sighed  after 
repose.  His  desire  was  soon  gratified.  Tidings 
were  brought  early  one  morning,  by  the  sentinel  ap 
pointed  to  watch  the  tower,  that  the  face  of  the 
brazen  horseman  was  turned  towards  the  mountains*.* 
of  Elvira,  and  that  his  lance  pointed  directly  against 
the  pass  of  Lope. 

"  Let  the  drums  and  trumpets  sound  to  arms, 
and  all  Granada  be  put  on  the  alert," — said  Aben 
Habuz. 

"  O  king,"  said  the  astrologer,  "  let  not  your  city 
be  disquieted,  nor  your  warriors  called  to  arms  ;  we 
need  no  aid  of  force  to  deliver  you  from  your  ene 
mies.  Dismiss  your  attendants  and  let  us  proceed 
alone  to  the  secret  hall  of  the  tower." 


116  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

The  ancient  Aben  Habuz  mounted  the  staircase 
of  the  tower,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  the  still  more 
ancient  Ibrahim  Ebn  Abu  Ayub.  They  unlocked 
the  brazen  door  and  entered.  The  window  that 
looked  towards  the  pass  of  Lope  was  open.  "  In 
this  direction  "  said  the  astrologer,  "  lies  the  danger 
— approach,  O  king,  and  behold  the  mystery  of  the 
table." 

King  Aben-Habuz  approached  the  seeming  chess 
board,  on  which  were  arranged  the  small  wooden 
effigies ;  when  lo  !  they  were  all  in  motion.  The 
horses  pranced  ,ind  curveted,  the  warriors  bran 
dished  their  weapons,  and  there  was  a  faint  sound 
of  drums  and  trumpets,  and  a  clang  of  arms  and 
neighing  of  steeds,  but  all  no  louder,  nor  more  dis 
tinct,  than  the  hum  of  the  bee  or  summer-fly  in 
the  drowsy  ear  of  him  who  lies  at  noon-tide  in  the 
shade. 

"  Behold,  O  king,"  said  the  astrologer,  "  a  proof 
that  thy  enemies  are  even  now  in  the  field.  They 
must  be  advancing  through  yonder  mountains  by 
the  pass  of  Lope.  Would  you  produce  a  panic  and 
confusion  amongst  them,  and  cause  them  to  abandon 
their  enterprise  and  retreat  without  loss  of  life,  strike 
these  effigies  with  the  butt  end  of  this  magic  lance ; 
but  would  you  cause  bloody  feud  and  carnage  among 
them,  strike  with  the  point." 

A  livid  streak  passed  across  the  countenance  of 
the  pacific  Aben  Habuz  ;  he  seized  the  mimic  lance 
with  trembling  eagerness,  and  tottered  towards  the 
table  ;  his  gray  beard  wagged  with  chuckling  exul 
tation.  "Son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  exclaimed  he,  "I 
think  we  will  have  a  little  blood  ! " 

So  saying  he  thrust  the  magic  lance  into  some  of 
the  pigmy  effigies,  and  belaboured  others  with  the 
butt  end ;  upon  which  the  former  fell,  as  dead,  up 
on  the  board,  and  the  rest  turning  upon  each  other, 
began,  pell-mell,  a  chance  medley  fight. 


THE  ARABIAN  A8RTOLOGER,        117 

It  was  with  difficulty  the  astrologer  could  stay  the 
hand  of  the  most  pacific  of  monarchs,  and  prevent 
him  from  absolutely  exterminating  his  foes.  At 
length  he  prevailed  upon  him  to  leave  the  tower, 
and  to  send  out  scouts  to  the  mountains  by  the  pass 
of  Lope. 

They  returned  with  the  intelligence  that  a  Chris 
tian  army  had  advanced  through  the  heart  of  the 
Sierra,  almost  within  sight  of  Granada,  when  a  dis 
sension  having  broken  out  among  them,  they  had 
turned  their  weapons  against  each  other,  and  after 
much  slaughter,  had  retreated  over  the  border. 

Aben  Habuz  was  transported  with  joy  on  thus 
proving  the  efficacy  of  the  talisman.  "  At  length," 
said  he,  "  I  shall  lead  a  life  of  tranquillity,  and  have 
all  my  enemies  in  my  power.  Oh  !  wise  son  of  Abu 
Ayub,  what  can  I  bestow  on  thee  in  reward  for  such 
a  blessing? " 

"  The  wants  of  an  old  man  and  a  philosopher,  O 
king,  are  few  and  simple — grant  me  but  the  means 
of  fitting  up  my  cave  as  a  suitable  hermitage,  and  I 
am  content." 

"  How  noble  is  the  moderation  of  the  truly  wise  !  - 
exclaimed  Aben  Habuz,  secretly  pleased  at  the 
cheapness  of  the  recompense.  He  summoned  his 
treasurer,  and  bade  him  dispense  whatever  sums 
might  be  required  by  Ibrahim  to  complete  and 
furnish  his  hermitage. 

The  astrologer  now  gave  orders  to  have  various 
chambers  hewn  out  of  the  solid  rock,  so  as  to'form 
ranges  of  apartments  connected  with  his  astrologi 
es.'  hall.  These  he  caused  to  be  furnished  with 
luxurious  ottomans  and  divans ;  and  the  walls  to  be 
hung  with  the  richest  silks  of  Damascus.  "  I  am  an 
old  man,"  said  he,  "and  can  no  longer  rest  my 
bones  on  stone  couches ;  and  these  damp  walls  re 
quire  covering." 

He  also  had  baths  constructed  and  provided  with 


118  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

all  kinds  of  perfumery  and  aromatic  oils ;  "  for  a 
bath,"  said  he,  "  is  necessary  to  counteract  the  rigid 
ity  of  age,  and  to  restore  freshness  and  suppleness 
to  the  frame  withered  by  study." 

He  caused  the  apartments  to  be  hung  with  in 
numerable  silver  and  crystal  lamps,  which  he  filled 
with  a  fragrant  oil  prepared  according  to  a  receipt 
discovered  by  him  in  the  tombs  of  Egypt.  This  oil 
was  perpetual  in  its  nature,  and  diffused  a  soft  radi 
ance  like  the  tempered  light  of  day.  "  The  light  of 
the  sun,"  said  he,  "  is  too  garish  and  violent  for  the 
eyes  of  an  old  man ;  and  the  light  of  the  lamp  is 
more  congenial  to  the  studies  of  a  philosopher." 

Thp  treasurer  of  King  Aben  Habuz  groaned  at 
the  sums  daily  demanded  to  lit  up  this  hermitage, 
and  he  carried  his  complaints  to  the  king.  The 
royal  word,  however,  was  given — Aben  Habuz 
shrugged  his  shoulders. — "  We  must  have  patience," 
said  he  ;  "  this  old  man  has  taken  his  idea  of  a  philo 
sophic  retreat  from  the  interior  of  the  Pyramids  and 
the  vast  ruins  of  Egypt ;  but  all  things  have  an  end, 
and  so  will  the  furnishing  of  his  cavern." 

The  king  was  in  the  right,  the  hermitage  was  at 
length  complete  and  formed  a  sumptuous  subter 
ranean  palace.  "  I  am  now  content,"  said  Ibrahim 
Ebn  Abu  Ayub,  to  the  treasurer ;  "  I  will  shut  myself 
up  in  my  cell  and  devote  my  time  to  study.  I  desire 
nothing  more, — nothing, — except  a  trilling  solace 
to  amuse  me  at  the  intervals  of  mental  labour." 

"  Oh  !  wise  Ibrahim,  ask  what  thou  wilt ;  I  am 
bound  to  furnish  all  that  is  necessary  for  thy  soli 
tude." 

"  I  would  fain  have  then  a  .few  dancing  women," 
said  the  philosopher. 

"  Dancing  women  !  "  echoed  the  treasurer  with 
surprise. 

"Dancing  women,"  replied  the  sage,  gravely: 
"a  few  will  suffice;  for  I  am  an  old  man  and  a 


THE  ARABIAN  ASTROLOGER.        119 

philosopher,  of  simple  habits  and  easily  satisfied. 
Let  them,  however,  be  young  and  fair  to  look  upon 
— for  the  sight  of  youth  and  beauty  is  refreshing  to 
old  age." 

While  the  philosophic  Ibrahim  Ebn  Ayub  passed 
his  time  thus  sagely  in  his  hermitage,  the  pacific 
Aben  Habuz  carried  on  furious  campaigns  in  effigy 
in  his  tower.  It  was  a  glorious  thing  for  an  old  man 
like  himself,  of  quiet  habits,  to  have  war  made  easy, 
and  to  be  enabled  to  amuse  himself  in  his  chamber 
by  brushing  away  whole  armies  like  so  many  swarms 
of  flies.  For  a  time  he  rioted  in  the  indulgence  o?' 
his  humours,  and  even  taunted  and  insulted  hi* 
neighbours  to  induce  them  to  make  incursions  ;  but 
by  degrees  they  grew  wary  from  repeated  disasters, 
until  no  one  ventured  to  invade  his  territories.  For 
many  months  the  bronze  horseman  remained  on  the 
peace  establishment  with  his  lance  elevated  in  the 
air,  and  the  worthy  old  monarch  began  to  repine  at 
the  want  of  his  accustomed  sport,  and  to  grow  pee 
vish  at  his  monotonous  tranquillity. 

At  length,  one  day,  the  talismanic  horseman 
veered  suddenly  round,  and,  ,  lowering  his  lance, 
made  a  dead  point  towards  the  mountains  of  Guarlix. 
Aben  Habuz  hastened  to  his  tower,  but  the  magic 
table  in  that  direction  remained  quiet — not  a  single 
warrior  was  in  motion.  Perplexed  at  the  circum 
stance,  he  sent  forth  a  troop  of  horse  to  scour  the 
mountains  and  reconnoitre.  They  returned  after 
three  days'  absence.  Rodovan,  the  captain  of  the 
troop,  addressed  the  king :  "  We  have  searched 
every  mountain  pass,"  said  he,  "  but  not  a  helm  or 
spear  was  stirring.  All  that  we  have  found  in  the 
course  of  our  foray  was  a  Christian  damsel  of  sur 
passing  beauty,  sleeping  at  noon-tide  beside  a  foun 
tain,  whom  we  have  brought  away  captive." 

"A  damsel  of  surpassing  beauty!"  exclaimed 
Aben  Habuz,  his  eyes  gleaming  with  animation  : 


120  TUE  ALIIAMBRA. 

"  let  her  be  conducted  into  my  presence."  "  Pardon 
me,  O  king  !  "  replied  Rodovan,  "  but  our  warfare 
at  present  is  scanty ;  and  yields  but  little  harvest. 
I  had  hoped  this  chance  gleaning  would  have  been 
allowed  for  my  services." 

"  Chance  gleaning  !  "  cried  Aben  Habuz.  "  What ! 
— a  damsel  of  surpassing  beauty  !  By  the  head  of 
my  father !  it  is  the  choice  fruits  of  warfare,  only  to 
be  garnered  up  into  the  royal  k/^ping. — Let  the 
damsel  be  brought  hither  instantly  ' 

The  beautiful  damsel  was  accordingly  conducted 
into  his  presence.  She  was  arrayed  in  the  Gothic 
3tyle  with  all  the  luxury  of  ornament  that  had  pre 
vailed  among  the  Gothic  Spaniards  at  the  time  of 
the  Arabian  conquest.  Pearls  of  dazzling  whiteness 
Were  entwined  with  her  raven  tresses ;  and  jewels 
sparkled  on  her  torehead,  rivalling  the  lustre  of  her 
eyes.  Around  her  neck  was  a  golden  chain,  to 
which  was  suspended  a  silver  lyre  which  hung  by 
her  side. 

The  flashes  of  her  dark  refulgent  eye  were  like 
sparks  of  tire  on  the  withered,  yet  combustible 
breast  of  Aben  Habuz,  and  set  it  in  a  flame.  The 
swimming  voluptuousness  of  her  gait  made  his 
senses  reel.  "Fairest  of  women,"  cried  he,  with 
rapture,  "  who  and  what  art  thou  ?  " — 

"  The  daughter  of  one  of  the  Gothic  princes  who 
lately  ruled  over  this  land.  The  armies  of  my  father 
have  been  destroyed  as  if  by  magic  among  these 
mountains,  he  has  been  driven  into  exile,  and  his 
daughter  is  a  slave." 

"  Be  comforted,  beautiful  princess — thou  art  no 
longer  a  slave,  but  a  sovereign  ;  turn  thine  eyes  gra 
ciously  upon  Aben  Habuz,  and  reign  over  him  and 
his  dominions." 

"  Beware,  O  king,"  whispered  Ibrahim  Ebn  Abu 
Ayub  ,  "  this  may  be  some  spirit  conjured  up  by  the 
magicians  of  the  Goths,  and  sent  for  thy  undoing, 


THE  ARABIAN  ASIt  TOL  0  GE&       121 


Or  It  may  be  one  of  those  northern  sorceresses,  wlio 
assume  the  most  seducing  forms  to  beguile\the  un 
wary.  Methinks  I  read  witchcraft  in  her  eye,  and 
sorcery  in  every  movement.  Let  my  sovereign  be 
ware — this  must  be  the  enemy  pointed  out  by  the 
talisman."  "  Son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  replied  the  king, 
"  you  are  a  wise  man  and  a  conjuror,  I  grant — but 
you  are  little  versed  in  the  ways  of  woman.  In  the 
knowledge  of  the  sex,  1  will  yield  to  no  man  ,  no, 
not  to  the  wise  Solomon  himself,  notwithstanding 
the  number  of  his  wives  and  his  concubines.  As  to 
this  damsel,  I  see  much  comfort  in  her  for  my  old 
days,  even  such  comfort  as  David,  the1  father  of  Sol 
omon,  found  in  the  society  of  Abishag  the  Shuna- 
mite." 

"  Hearken,  O  king,"  rejoined  the  astrologer,  sud 
denly  changing  his  tone — "  I  have  given  thee  many 
triumphs  over  thy  enemies,  and  by  means  of  my 
talisman,  yet  thou  hast  never  given  me  share  of  the 
spoils  ;  grant  me  this  one  stray  captive  to  solace  me 
in  my  retirement,  and  I  am  content." 

"  What !  "  cried  Aben  Habuz,  "  more  women  ! 
hast  thou  not  already  dancing  women  to  solace  thee 
— what  more  wouldst  thou  desire." 

"  Dancing  women,  have  I,  it  is  true ;  but  I  have 
none  that  sing ;  and  music  is  a  balm  to  old  age. — 
This  captive,  I  perceive,  beareth  a  s'ilver  lyre,  and 
must  be  skilled  in  minstrelsy.  Give  her  to  me,  I 
pray  thee,  to  sooth  my  senses  after  the  toil  of 
study." 

The  ire  of  the  pacific  monarch  was  kindled,  and 
he  loaded  the  philosopher  with  reproaches.  The 
latter  retired  indignantly  to  his  hermitage ;  but  ere 
he  departed,  he  again  warned  the  monarch  to  be 
ware  of  his  beautiful  captive.  Where,  in  fact,  is  the 
old  man  in  love  that  will  listen  to  counsel  ?  Aben 
Habuz  had  felt  the  full  power  of  the  witchery  of  the 
eye,  and  the  sorcery  of  movement,  and  the  more  he 
gazed,  the  more  he  was  enamoured. 


133  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

He  resigned  himself  to  the  full  sway  of  his  pas 
sions.     His  only  study,  was  how  to  render  himself 
amiable  in  the  eyes  of  the  Gothic  beauty.     He  had 
not  youth,  it  is  true,  to  recommend  him,  but  then 
e  had  riches  ;  and  when  a  lover  is  no  longer  young-, 
e  becomes  generous.      The  Zacatin  of  Granada 
•as  ransacked  for  the  most  precious  merchandise  of 
le  East.     Silks,  jewels,  precious  gems  and  exquis- 
e  perfumes,  all  that  Asia  rnd  Africa  yielded  of 
ch  and  rare,  were  lavished  upon  the  princess.    She 
tceived  all  as  her  due,  and  regarded  them  with  the 
difference  of    one   accustomed   to   magnificence. 
11  kinds  of  spectacles  and  festivities  were  devised 
r  her  entertainment ;  minstrelsy,  dancing,  tourna* 
raents,  bull-fights; — Granada,  for  a  time,  was  a  scene 
of  perpetual  pageant.     The  Gothic  princess  seemed 
to  take  a  delight  in  causing  expense,  as  if  she  sought 
to  drain  the  treasures  of  the  monarch.     There  were 
no  bounds  to  her  caprice,  or  to  the  extravagance 
of  her  ideas.     Yet,  notwithstanding  all  this  munfi- 
cence,  the  venerable  Aben  Habuz  could  not  flatter 
himself  that  he  had  made  any  impression  on  her 
heart.    She  never  frowned  on  him,  it  is  true,  but  she 
had  a  singular  way  of  baffling  his  tender  advances. 
Whenever  he  began  to  plead  his  passion,  she  struck 
her  silver  lyre.     There  was  a  mystic  charm  in  the 
sound :  on  hearing  of  it,  an  irresistible  drowsiness 
seized  upon  the  superannuated  lover,  he  fell  asleep, 
and  only  woke  when  the  temporary  fumes  of  pas 
sion  had  evaporated.     Still  the  dream  of  love  had  a 
bewitching  power  over  his  senses ;  so  he  continued 
to  dream  on  ,  while  all   Granada  scoffed  at  his  in 
fatuation,  and  groaned  at  the  treasures  lavished  for 
a  song. 

At  length  a  danger  burst  over  the  head  of  Aben 
Habuz,  against  which,  his  talisman  yielded  him  no 
warning.  A  rebellion  broke  out  in  the  very  heart 
of  his  capital ;  headed  by  the  bold  Rodovan.  Aben 


THE  ARABIAN  ASTROLOGER.        123 

Habuz  was,  for  a  time,  besieged  in  his  palace,  and 
it  was  not  without  the  greatest  difficulty  that  he  re 
pelled  his  assailants  and  quelled  the  insurrection. 

He  now  felt  himself  compelled  once  more  to  re 
sort  to  the  assistance  of  the  astrologer.  He  found 
him  still  shut  up  in  his  hermitage,  chewing  the  cud 
of  resentment.  "  O  wise  son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  said 
he,  "  what  thou  hast  foretold,  has,  in  some  sort, 
come  to  pass.  This  Gothic  princess  ht\3  brought 
trouble  and  danger  upon  me." 

"  Is  the  king  then  disposed  to  put  her  away  from 
him  ?  **  said  the  astrologer  with  animation. 

"  Sooner  would  I  part  with  my  kingdom  ! "  replied 
Aben  Habuz. 

"  What  then  is  the  need  of  disturbing  me  in  my 
philosophical  retirement?"  said  the  astrologer,  pe'> 
vishly. 

"•  Be  not  angry,  O  sagest  of  philosophers,  i 
would  fain  have  one  more  exartidn  of  thy  magic 
art.  Devise  some  means  by  which  I  may  be  secure 
from  internal  treason,  as  well  as  outward  war — some 
safe  retreat,  where  I  may  take  refuge  and  be  at 
peace." 

The  astrologer  ruminated  for  a  moment,  and  a 
subtle  gleam  shone  from  his  eye  under  his  bushy 
eyebrows. 

"Thou  hast  heard,  no  doubt,  O  king,"  said  he, 
"  of  the  palace  and  garden  of  Irem,  whereof  mention 
is  made  in  that  chapter  of  the  Koran  entitled  '  the 
dawn  of  day.'" 

"  I  have  heard  of  that  garden, — marvellous  things 
are  related  of  it  by  the  pilgrims  who  visit  Mecca,  but 
I  have  thought  them  wild  fables,  such  as  those  are 
prone  to  tell  who  visit  remote  regions." 

"  Listen,  O  king,  and  thou  shaft  know  the  mystery 
of  that  garden.  In  my  younger  days  I  was  in  Arabia 
the  Happy,  tending  my  father's  camels.  One  of 
them  strayed  away  from  the  rest,  and  was  lost.  I 


124  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

searched  for  it  for  several  days  about  the  deserts  of 
Aden,  until  wearied  and  faint,  I  laid  myself  down 
and  slept  under  a  palm  tree  by  the  side  of  a  scanty 
well.  When  I  awoke,  I  found  myself  at  the  gate  of 
a  city.  I  entered  and  beheld  noble  streets  and 
squares  and  market  places,  but  all  were  silent  and 
without  an  inhabitant.  I  wandered  on  until  I  came 
to  a  sumptuous  palace,  with  a  garden  adorned  with 
fountains  and  fish-ponds ;  and  groves  and  flowers  ; 
and  orchards  laden  with  delicious  fruit ;  but  still  no 
one  was  to  be  seen.  Upon  which,  appalled  at  this 
loneliness,  I  hastened  to  depart,  and,  after  issuing 
forth  at  the  gate  of  the  city,  I  turned  to  look  upon 
the  place,  but  it  was  no  longer  to  be  seen,  nothing 
but  the  silent  desert  extended  before  my  eyes. 

"  In  the  neighbourhood  I  met  with  an  aged  dervise, 
learned  in  the  traditions  and  secrets  of  ±e  land,  and 
related  to  him  what  had  befallen  me.  '  This,'  said 
he,  'is  the  far  famed  garden  of  Irem,  one  of  the 
wonders  of  the  desert.  It  only  appears  at  times  to 
some  wanderer  like  thyself,  gladdening  him  with  the 
sight  of  towers  and  palaces,  and  garden  walls  over 
hung  with  richly  laden  fruit  trees,  and  then  vanishes, 
leaving  nothing  but  a  lonely  desert. — And  this  is  the 
story  of  it : — In  old  times,  when  this  country  was 
inhabited  by  the  Addiles,  king  Sheddad,  the  son  of 
Ad,  the  great  grandson  of  Noah,  founded  here  a 
splendid  city.  When  it  was  finished,  and  he  saw  its 
grandeur,  his  heart  was  puffed  up  with  pride  and 
arrogance,  and  he  determined  to  build  a  royal  pal 
ace,  with  gardens  that  should  rival  all  that  was  re 
lated  in  the  Koran  of  the  celestial  paradise.  But  the 
curse  of  heaven  fell  upon  him  for  his  presumption. 
He  and  his  subjects  were  swept  from  the  earth,  and 
his  splendid  city,  and  palace,  and  garden,  were  laid 
under  a  perpetual  spell,  that  hides  them  from  the 
human  sight,  excepting  that  they  are  seen  at  inter 
vals  ;  by  way  of  keeping  his  sin  in  perpetual  remem 
brance.' 


THE  ARABIAN  ASR  TOL  0  0.,  ER        m 

"This  story,  O  king,  and  the  wonders  I  haa  . ,n 
ever  dwell  in  my  mind,  and,  in  after  years,  wherr. , 
had  been  in  Egypt  and  made  myself  master  of  all 
kinds  of  magic  spells,  I  determined  to  return  and 
visit  the  garden  of  Irem.  I  did  so.  and  found  it  re 
vealed  to  my  instructed  sight.  I  took  possession  of 
the  palace  of  Sheddad,  and  passed  several  days  in 
his  mock  paradise.  The  genii  who  watch  over  the 
place,  were  obedient  to  my  magic  power,  and  reveal 
ed  to  me  the  spells  by  which  the  whole  garden  had 
been,  as  it  were,  conjured  into  existence,  and  by 
which  it  was  rendered  invisible.  Such  spells,  O 
king,  are  within  the  scope  of  my  art.  What  sayest 
thou  ?  Wouldst  thou  have  a  palace  and  garden  like 
those  of  Irem,  filled  with  all  manner  of  delights,  but 
hidden  from  the  eyes  of  mortals  ?  " 

"O,  -wise  son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  exclaimed  Aben 
Habuz,  trembling  with  eagerness — "Contrive  me 
such  a  paradise,  and  ask  any  reward,  even  to  the 
half  of  my  kingdom." 

"Alas,"  replied  the  other,  "thou  knowest  I  am 
an  old  man,  and  a  philosopher,  and  easily  satisfied  ; 
all  the  reward  I  ask,  is  the  first  beast  of  burden,  with 
its  load,  that  shall  enter  the  magic  portal  of  the 
palace." 

The  monarch  gladly  agreed  to  so  moderate  a  stip 
ulation,  and  the  astrologer  began  his  work.  On  the 
summit  of  the  hill  immediately  above  his  subterra 
nean  hermitage  he  caused  a  great  gateway  or  barbi 
can  to  be  erected  ;  opening  through  the  centre  of  a 
strong  tower.  There  was  an  outer  vestioule  or  porch 
with  a  lofty  arch,  and  within  it  a  portal  secured  by 
massive  gates.  On  the  key-stone  of  the  portal  the 
astrologer,  with  his  own  hand,  wrought  the  figure  of 
a  huge  key,  and  on  the  key-stone  of  the  outer  arch 
of  the  vestibule,  which  was  loftier  than  that  of  the 
portal,  he  carved  a  gigantic  hand.  These  were  po 
tent  talismans,  over  which  he  repeated  many  sen 
tences  in  an  unknown  tongue. 


124  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

searr\xen  this  gateway  was  finished,  he  shut  himself 
^  for  two  days  in  his  astrological  hall,  engaged  in 
secret  incantations:  on  the  third  he  ascended  the 
iili.  and  passed  the  whole  day  on  its  summit.  At  a 
late  hour  of  the  night  he  came  down  and  presented 
himself  before  Aben  Habuz.  "  At  length,  O  king," 
said  he,  "  my  labour  is  accomplished.  On  the  sum 
mit  of  the  hill  stands  one  of  the  most  delectable  pal 
aces  that  ever  the  head  of  man  devised,  or  the  heart 
of  man  desired.  It  contains  sumptuous  halls  and 
galleries,  delicious  gardens,  cool  founta:ns  and  fra 
grant  baths;  in  a  word,  the  whole  mountain  is  con 
verted  into  a  paradise.  Like  the  garden  oi  Irem,  it 
is  protected  by  a  mighty  charm,  which  hides  it  from 
the  view  and  search  of  mortals,  excepting  such  as 
possess  the  secret  of  its  talismans." 

"  Enough,"  cried  Aben  Habuz,  joyfully  ;  "to-mor 
row  morning,  bright  and  early,  we  will  ascend  and 
take  possession."  The  happy  monarch  scarcely 
slept  that  night.  Scarcely  had  the  rays  of  the  sun 
begun  to  play  about  the  snowy  summit  of  the  Sierra 
Nevada,  when  he  mounted  his  steed,  and  accom 
panied  only  by  a  few  chosen  attendants,  ascended  a 
steep  and  narrow  road  leading  up  the  hill.  Beside 
him,  on  a  white  palfrey,  rode  the  Gothic  princess,  her 
dress  sparkling  with  jewels,  while  round  her  neck 
was  suspended  her  silver  lyre.  The  astrologer  walk 
ed  on  the  other  side  of  the  king,  assisting  his  steps 
v/ith  his  hieroglyphic  staff,  for  he  never  mounted 
steed  of  any  kind. 

Aben  Habuz  looked  to  see  the  towers  of  the  prom 
ised  palace  brightening  above  him,  and  the  embow 
ered  terraces  of  its  gardens  stretching  along  the 
heights,  but  as  yet,  nothing  of  the  king  was  to  be 
descried.  "  That  is  the  mystery  and  safeguard  of  the 
place,"  said  the  astrologer,  "  nothing  can  be  discern 
ed  until  you  have  passed  the  spell-bound  gateway, 
and  been  put  in  possession  of  the  place." 


THE  ARABIAN  AS  TR  OL  0  GER.        127 

As  they  approached  *he(  gateway,  the  astrologer 
paused,  and  pointed  out  to  the  king  the  mystic  hand 
and  key  carved  upon  the  portal  and  'the  arch. 
"These,"  said  he,  "are  the  talismans  which  guard 
the  entrance  to  this  paradise.  Until  yonder  hand 
shall  reach  down  arid  seize  that  key,  neither  mortal 
power,  nor  magic  artifice,  can  prevail  against  the 
lord  of  this  mountain." 

While  Aben  Habuz  was  gazing  with  open  mouth 
and  silent  wonder  at  these  mystic  talismans,  the  pal 
frey  of  the  princess  proceeded  on,  and  bore  her  in  at 
the  portal,  to  the  very  centre  of  the  barbican. 

"  Behold,"  cried  the  astrologer,  "  my  promised  re 
ward  ! — the  first  animal  with  its  burden,  that  should 
enter  the  magic  gateway." 

Aben  Habuz  smiled  at  what  he  considered  a  pleas 
antry  of  the  ancient  man  ;  but  when  he  found  him  to 
be  in  earnest,  his  gray  beard  trembled  with  indig 
nation. 

"  Son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  said  he,  sternly,  "  what  equiv 
ocation  is  this  ?  Thou  knowest  the  meaning  of  my 
promise,  the  first  beast  of  burden,  with  its  load,  that 
should  enter  this  portal.  Take  the  strongest  mule 
in  my  stables,  load  it  with  the  most  precious  things 
of  my  treasury,  and  it  is  thine  ;  but  dare  not  to  raise 
thy  thoughts  to  her,  who  is  the  delight  of  my  heart." 

"What  need  I  of  wealth,"  cried  the  astrologer, 
scornfully ;  "  have  I  not  the  book  of  knowledge  of 
Solomon  the  Wise,  and  through  it,  the  command  of 
the  secret  treasures  of  the  earth  ?  The  princess  is 
mine  by  right ;  thy  royal  word  is  pledged  ;  I  claim 
her  as  my  own." 

The  princess  sat  upon  her  palfrey,  in  the  pride  of 
youth  and  beauty,  and  a  light  smile  ci  icorn  curled 
her  rosy  lip,  at  this  dispute  between  two  gray  beards 
for  her  charms.  The  wrath  of  the  monarch  got  the 
better  of  his  discretion.  "  Base  son  of  the  desert," 
cried  he,  "thou  mayest  be  master  of  many  arts,  but 


128  THE  ALIIAMBRA. 

know  me  for  thy  master — and  presume  not  to  juggle 
with  thy  king." 

"  My  master  !  echoed  the  istrologer, ' '  my  king ! 
The  monarch  of  a  mole-hill  to  claim  sway  over  him 
who  possesses  the  talismans  of  Solomon.  Farewell, 
Aben  Habuz ;  reign  over  thy  petty  kingdom,  and 
revel  in  thy  paradise  of  fools — for  me,  I  will  laugh  at 
thee  in  my  philosophic  retirement." 

So  saying,  he  seized  the  bridle  of  the  palfrey,  smote 
the  earth  with  his  staff,  and  sank  with  the  Gothic 
princess  through  the  centre  of  the  barbican.  The 
earth  closed  over  them,  and  no  trace  remained  of 
the  opening  by  which  they  had  descended.  Aben 
Habuz  was  struck  dumb  for  a  time  with  astonish 
ment.  Recovering  himself  he  ordered  a  thousand 
workmen  to  dig  with  pickaxe  and  spade  into  the 
ground  where  the  astrologer  had  disappeared.  They 
digged  and  digged,  but  in  vain ;  the  flinty  bosom  of 
the  hill  resisted  their  implements  ;  or  if  they  did  pen 
etrate  a  little  way,  the  earth  filled  in  again  as  fast  as 
they  threw  it  out.  Aben  Habuz  sought  the  mouth 
of  the  cavern  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  leading  to  the 
subterranean  palace  of  the  astrologer,  but  it  was  no 
where  to  be  found  :  where  once  had  been  an  en 
trance,  was  now  a  solid  surface  of  primeval  rock. 
With  the  disappearance  of  Ibrahim  Ebn  Abu  Ayub 
ceased  the  benefit  of  his  talismans.  The  bronze 
horseman  remained  fixed  with  his  face  turned  toward 
the  hill,  and  his  spear  pointed  to  the  spot  where  the 
astrologer  had  descended,  as  if  there  still  lurked  the 
deadliest  foe  of  Aben  Habuz.  From  time  to  time 
the  sound  of  music  and  the  tones  of  a  female  voice 
could  be  faintly  heard  from  the  bosom  of  the  hill, 
and  a  peasant  one  day  brought  word  to  the  king, 
that  in  the  preceding  night  he  had  found  a  fissure  in 
the  rock,  by  which  he  had  crept  in  until  he  looked 
down  into  a  subterranean  hall,  in  which  sat  the  as 
trologer  on  a  magnificent  divan,  slumbering  and 


THE  ARABIAN  ASRTOLOGER.        129 

nodding  to  the  silver  lyre  of  the  princess,  which 
seemed  to  hold  a  magic  sway  over  his  senses. 

Aben  Habuz  sought  for  the  fissure  in  the  rock, 
but  it  was  again  closed.  He  renewed  the  attempt  to 
unearth  his  rival,  but  all  in  vain.  The  spell  of  the 
hand  and  key  was  too  potent  to  be  counteracted  by 
human  power.  As  to  the  summit  of  the  mountain, 
the  site  of  the  promised  palace  and  garden,  it  re 
mained  a  naked  waste  :  either  the  boasted  Elysium 
was  hidden  from  sight  by  enchantment,  or  was  a 
mere  fable  of  the  astrologer.  The  world  charitably 
supposed  the  latter,  and  some  used  to  call  the  place 
"  the  king's  folly,"  while  others  named  it  "  the  fool's 
Paradise." 

To  add  to  the  chagrin  of  Aben  Habuz,  the  neigh 
bours,  whom  he  had  defied  and  taunted,  and  cut  up 
at  his  leisure,  while  master  of  the  talismanic  horse 
man,  finding  him  no  longer  protected  by  magic  spell, 
made  inroads  into  his  territories  from  all  sides,  and 
the  remainder  of  the  life  of  the  most  pacific  of  mon- 
archs,  was  a  tissue  of  turmoils. 

At  length,  Aben  Habuz  died  and  was  buried. 
Ages  have  since  rolled  away.  The  Alhambra  has 
been  built  on  the  eventful  mountain,  and  in  some 
measure  realizes  the  fabled  delights  of  the  garden  of 
Trem.  The  spell-bound  gateway  still  exists,  protect 
ed,  no  doubt,  by  the  mystic  hand  and  key,  and  now 
forms  the  gate  of  justice,  the  grand  entrance  to  the 
fortress.  Under  that  gateway,  it  is  said,  the  old  as 
trologer  remains  in  his  subterranean  hall ;  nodding 
on  his  divan,  lulled  by  the  silver  lyre  of  the  princess. 

The  old  invalid  sentinels,  who  mount  guard  at  the 
gate,  hear  the  strains  occasionally  in  the  summer 
nights,  and,  yielding  to  their  soporific  power,  doze 
quietly  at  their  posts.  Nay,  so  drowsy  an  influence 
pervades  the  place,  that  even  those  who  watch  by 
day,  may  generally  be  seen  nodding  on  the  stone 
benches  of  the  barbican,  or  sleeping  under  the  neigh- 


130  THE  ALHAMBEA. 

bouring  trees ;  so  that  it  is,  in  fact,  the  drowsiest 
military  p9St  in  all  Christendom.  All  this,  say  the 
legends,  will  endure ;  from  age  to  age  the  princess 
will  remain  captive  to  the  astrologer,  and  the  astrol 
oger  bound  up  in  magic  slumber  by  the  princess, 
until  the  last  day ;  unless  the  mystic  hand  shall  grasp 
the  fated  key,  and  dispel  the  whole  charm  of  this 
"  enchanted  mountain. 


LEGEND  OF 

THE  THREE  BE  A  UTIFUL 
PRINCESSES. 

IN  old  times  there  reigned  a  Moorish  king1  in 
Granada,  whose  name  was  Mohamed,  to  which 
his  subjects  added  the  appellation  of  el  Haygari, 
or  "  the  left-handed."  Some  say  he  was  so  called, 
on  account  of  his  being  really  more  expert  with  his 
sinister,  than  his  dexter  hand  ;  others,  because  he 
was  prone  to  take  every  thing  by  the  wrong  end  ; 
or,  in  other  words,  to  mar  wherever  he  meddled. 
Certain  it  is,  either  through  misfortune  or  misman 
agement,  he  was  continually  in  trouble.  Thrice 
was  he  driven  from  his  throne,  and  on  one  occasion 
barely  escaped  to  Africa  with  his  life,  in  the  dis 
guise  of  a  fisherman.  Still  he  was  as  brave  as  he 
was  blundering,  and,  though  left-handed,  wielded 
his  scimitar  to  such  purpose,  that  he  each  time 
re-established  himself  upon  his  throne,  by  dint  of 
hard  fighting.  Instead,  however,  of  learning  wis 
dom  from  adversity,  he  hardened  his  neck,  and 
stiffened  his  left-arm  in  wilfulness.  The  evils  of 
a  public  nature  which  he  thus  brought  upon  him 
self  and  his  kingdom,  may  be  learned  by  those 
who  will  delve  into  the  Arabian  annals  of  Grana 
da  ;  the  present  legend  deals  but  with  his  domestic 
policy. 

As  this  Mohamed  was  one  day  riding  forth,  with 
a  train  of  his  courtiers,  by  the  foot  of  the  mountain 
of  Elvira,  he  met  a  band  of  horsemen  returning 
from  a  foray  into  the  land  of  the  Christians.  They 


182  TEE  ALHAMBRA. 

were  conducting  a  long  string  of  mules  laden  with 
spoil,  and  many  captives  of  both  sexes,  among 
whom,  the  monarch  was  struck  with  the  appear 
ance  of  a  beautiful  damsel  richly  attired,  who  sat 
weeping,  on  a  low  palfrey,  and  heeded  not  the  con 
soling  words  of  a  duenna,  who  rode  beside  her. 

The  monarch  was  struck  with  her  beauty,  and  on 
inquiring  of  the  captain  of  the  troop,  found  that  she 
was  the  daughter  of  the  alcayde  of  a  frontier  for 
tress  that  had  been  surprised  and  sacked  in  the 
course  of  the  foray. 

Mohamed  claimed  her  as  his  royal  share  of  the 
booty,  and  had  her  conveyed  to  his  harem  in  the 
Alhambra.  There  eveiy  thing  was  devised  to  sooth 
her  melancholy,  and  the  monarch,  more  and  more 
enamoured,  sought  to  make  her  his  queen. 

The  Spanish  maid  at  first  repulsed  his  addresses. 
He  was  an  infidel — he  was  the  open  foe  of  her 
country  —  what  was  worse,  he  was  stricken  in 
years  ! 

The  monarch  finding  his  assiduities  of  no  avail, 
determined  to  enlist  in  his  favour  the  duenna,  who 
had  been  captured  with  the  lady.  She  was  an  Anda- 
lusian  by  birth,  whose  Christian  name  is  forgotten, 
being  mentioned  in  Moorish  legends,  by  no  other 
appellation  than  that  of  the  discreet  Cacliga — and 
discreet,  in  truth  she  was,  as  her  whole  history  makes 
evident.  No  sooner  had  the  Moorish  king  held  a 
little  private  conversation  with  her,  than  she  saw  at 
once  the  cogency  of  his  reasoning,  and  undertook  his 
cause  with  her  young  mistress. 

;•  Go  to,  now  !"  cried  she;  "  what  is  there  in  al) 
this  to  weep  and  wail  about  ? — Is  it  not  better  to 
be  mistress  of  this  beautiful  palace  with  all  its  gar 
dens  and  fountains,  than  to  be  shut  up  within  your 
father's  old  frontier  tower?  As  to  this  Mohamed 
being  an  infidel — what  is  that  to  the  purpose  ?  You 
marry  him — not  his  religion.  And  if  he  is  waxing 


THREE  BEAUTIFUL  PRINCESSES.     133 

a  little  old,  the  sooner  will  you  be  a  widow  ana 
mistress  of  yourself.  At  any  rate  you  are  in  his 
power— and  must  either  be  a  queen  or  a  slave. — 
When  in  the  hands  of  a  robber,  it  is  better  to  sell 
one's  merchandise  for  a  fair  price,  than  to  have  it 
taken  by  main  force." 

The  arguments  of  the  discreet  Cadiga  prevailed. 
The  Spanish  lady  dried  her  tears  and  became  the 
spouse  of  Mohamed  the  left-handed.  She  even  con 
formed  in  appearance  to  the  faith  of  her  royal  hus 
band,  and  her  discreet  duenna  immediately  became 
a  zealous  convert  to  the  Moslem  doctrines ;  it  was 
then  the  latter  received  the  Arabian  name  of  Cadiga, 
and  was  permitted  to  remain  in  the  confidential 
employ  of  her  mistress. 

In  due  process  of  time,  the  Moorish  king  was 
made  the  proud  and  happy  father  of  three  lovely 
daughters,  all  born  at  a  birth.  He  could  have 
wished  they  had  been  sons,  but  consoled  himself 
with  the  idea  that  three  daughters  at  a  birth,  were 
pretty  well  for  a  man  somewhat  stricken  in  years, 
and  left-handed. 

As  'usual  with  all  Moslem  monarchs,  he  sum 
moned  his  astrologers  on  this  happy  event.  They 
cast  the  nativities  of  the  three  princesses,  and 
shook  their  heads.  "  Daughters,  O  king,"  said 
they,  "  are  always  precarious  property ;  but  these 
will  most  need  your  watchfulness  when  they  ar 
rive  at  a  marriageable  age. — At  that  time  gather 
them  under  your  wing,  and  trust  them  to  no  other 
guardianship." 

Mohamed  the  left-handed  was  acknowledged  by 
his  courtiers  to  be  a  wise  king,  and  was  certainly 
so  considered  by  himself.  The  prediction  of  the 
astrologers  caused  him  but  little  disquiet,  trusting 
to  his  ingenuity  to  guard  his  daughters  and  outwit 
the  fates. 

The  threefold  birth  was    the  last    matrimonial 


134  THE  ALII  A  MBRA. 

trophy  of  the  monarch  ;  his  queen  bore  him  no  more 
children,  and  died  within  a  few  years,  bequeathing 
her  infant  daughters  to  his  love,  and  to  the  fidelity 
of  the  discreet  Cadiga. 

Many  years  had  yet  to  elapse  before  the  prin 
cesses  would  arrive  at  that  period  of  danger,  the 
marriageable  age.  "  It  is  good,  however,  to  be  cau 
tious  in  time,"  said  the  shrewd  monarch  ;  so  he  de 
termined  to  have  them  reared  in  the  royal  castle 
of  Salobrena.  This  was  a  sumptuous  palace,  in- 
crusted,  as  it  were  in  a  powerful  Moorish  fortress, 
on  the  summit  of  a  hill  that  overlooks  the  Mediter 
ranean  sea. 

It  was  a  royal  retreat,  in  which  the  Moslem  mon- 
archs  shut  up  such  of  their  relations  as  might  en 
danger  their  safety ;  allowing  them  all  kinds  of  lux 
uries  and  amusements,  in  the  midst  of  which  they 
passed  their  lives  in  voluptuous  indolence. 

Here  the  princesses  remained,  immured  from  the 
world,  but  surrounded  by  enjoyments  ;  and  attended 
by  female  slaves  whc  anticipated  their  wishes. 
They  had  delightful  gardens  for  their  recreation, 
rilled  with  the  rarest  fruits  and  flowers,  with  aromat 
ic  grov  is  and  perfumed  baths.  On  three  sides  the 
castle  looked  down  upon  a  rich  valley,  enameled 
with  all  kinds  of  culture,  and  bounded  by  the  lofty 
Alpuxarra  mountains ;  on  the  other  side  it  over- 
looke.d  the  broad  sunny  sea. 

In  this  delicious  abode,  in  a  propitious  climate 
and  under  a  cloudless  sky,  the  three  princesses 
grew  up  into  wondrous  beauty ;  but,  though  all 
roared  alike,  they  gave  early  tokens  of  diversity  o. 
character.  Their  names  were  Zayda,  Zorayda,  and 
Zorahayda ;  and  such  was  the  order  of  seniority, 
for  there  had  been  precisely  three  minutes  between 
their  births. 

Zayda,  the  eldest,  was  of  an  intrepid  spirit,  and 
took  the  lead  of  her  sisters  in  every  thing,  as  she 


THREE  BEAUTIFUL  PRINCESSES.     135 

had  done  in  entering  first  into  the  world.  She 
was  curious  and  inquisitive,  and  fond  of  getting  at 
the  bottom  of  things. 

Zorayda  had  a  great  feeling  for  beauty,  which 
was  the  reason,  no  doubt,  of  her  delighting  to  regard 
her  own  image  in  a  mirror  or  a  fountain,  and  of 
her  fondness  for  flowers  and  jewels,  and  other  taste 
ful  ornaments. 

As  to  Zorahayda,  the  youngest,  she  was  soft  and 
timid,  and  extremely  sensitive,  with  a  vast  deal  of 
disposable  tenderness,  as  was  evident  from  her 
number  of  pet  flowers,  and  pet  birds,  and  pet  ani 
mals,  all  of  which  she  cherished  with  the  fondest 
care.  Her  amusements,  too,  were  of  a  gentle  na 
ture,  and  mixed  up  with  musing  and  reverie.  She 
would  sit  for  hours  in  a  balcony  gazing  on  the  spark 
ling  stars  of  a  summer  night ;  or  on  the  sea  when 
lit  up  by  the  moon,  and  at  such  times  the  song  of  a 
fisherman  faintly  heard  from  the  beach,  or  the  notes 
of  an  arrafia  or  Moorish  flute  from  some  gliding 
bark,  sufficed  to  elevate  her  feelings  into  ecstasy. 
The  least  uproar  of  the  elements,  however,  filled  her 
with  dismay,  and  a  clap  of  thunder  was  enough  to 
throw  her  into  a  swoon. 

Years  moved  on  serenely,  and  Cadiga,  to  whum 
the  princesses  were  confided,  was  faithful  to  he\  irust 
and  attended  them  with  unremitting  :are. 

The  castle  of  Salobrefia,  as  has  been  said,  was 
built  upon  a  hill  on  the  sea  coast.  One  of  the  ex- 
terior  walls  straggled  down  the  profile  of  the  hill, 
until  it  reached  a  jutting  rock  overhanging  the  sea, 
with  a  narrow  sandy  beach  at  its  foot,  laved  by  the 
rippling  billows.  A  small  watch  tower  on  this  rock 
had  been  fitted  up  as  a  pavilion,  with  latticed  win 
dows  to  admit  the  sea  breeze.  Here  the  princesses 
used  to  pass  the  sultry  hours  of  mid-day. 

The  curious  Zayda  was  one  day  seated  at  one  of 
the  windows  of  the  pavilion,  as  her  sisters,  reclined 


1S6  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

on  ottomans,  were  taking  the  siesta,  or  noon-tide 
slumber.  Her  attention  had  been  attracted  to  a 
galley,  which  came  coasting  along,  with  measured 
strokes  of  the  oar.  As  it  drew  near,  she  observed 
that  it  was  filled  with  armed  men.  The  galley 
anchored  at  the  foot  of  the  tower:  a  number  of 
Moorish  soldiers  landed  on  the  narrow  beach,  con 
ducting  several  Christian  prisoners.  The  curious 
Zayda  awakened  her  sisters,  and  all  three  peeped 
cautiously  through  the  close  jealousies  of  the  lattice, 
which  screened  them  from  sight.  Among  the 
prisoners  were  three  Spanish  cavaliers,  richly  dressed. 
They  were  in  the  flower  of  youth,  and  of  noble 
presence,  and  the  lofty  manner  in  which  they  carried 
themselves,  though  loaded  with  chains  and  surround 
ed  with  enemies,  bespoke  the  grandeur  of  their  souls. 
The  princesses  gazed  with  intense  and  breathless 
interest.  Cooped  up  as  they  had  been  in  this  castle 
among  female  attendants,  seeing  nothing  "f  the  male 
sex  but  black  slaves,  or  the  rude  fishermen  of  the 
sea  coast,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  that  the  ap 
pearance  of  three  gallant  cavaliers  in  the  pride  of 
youth  and  manly  beauty  should  produce  some  com 
motion  in  their  bosoms. 

"  Did  ever  nobler  being  tread  the  earth,  than  that 
cavalier  in  crimson?"  cried  Zayda,  the  eldest  of  the 
sisters.  "  See  how  proudly  he  bears  himself,  as 
though  all  around  him  were  his  slaves ! " 

"  But  notice  that  one  in  green,"  exclaimed  Zo- 
rayda ;  "  what  grace  1  what  elegance  !  what  spirit  I  " 

The  gentle  Zorahayda  said  nothing,  but  she  se 
cretly  gave  preference  to  the  cavalier  in  green. 

The  princesses  remained  gazing  until  the  prison 
ers  were  out  of  sight ;  then  heaving  long-drawn 
sighs,  they  turned  round,  looked  at  each  other  for  a 
moment,  and  sat  down  musing  and  pensive  on  their 
ottomans. 

The  discreet  Cadiga  found  them  in  this  situation; 


TEHEE  BEAUTIFUL  PRINCESSES.     187 

they  related  to  her  what  they  had  seen,  and  even  the 
withered  heart  of  the  duenna  was  warmed.  "  Poor 
youths!"  exclaimed  she,  "I'll  warrant  their  cap 
tivity  makes  many  a  fair  and  high-born  lady's  heart 
ache  in  their  native  land  !  Ah,  my  children,  you 
have  little  idea  of  the  life  these  cavaliers  lead  in  their 
own  country.  Such  prankling  at  tournaments  !  such 
devotion  to  the  ladies !  such  courting  and  serenad 
ing"  ! " 

The  curiosity  of  Zayda  was  fully  aroused.  She 
was  insatiable  in  her  inquiries,  and  drew  from  the 
duenna  the  most  animated  pictures  of  the  scenes  of 
her  youthful  days  and  native  land.  The  beautiful 
Zorayda  bridled  up,  and  slyly  regarded  herself  in  a 
mirror,  when  the  theme  turned  upon  the  charms  of 
the  Spanish  ladies  ;  while  Zorahayda  suppressed  a 
struggling  sigh  at  the  mention  of  moonlight  sere 
nades. 

Every  day  the  curious  Zayda  renewed  her  in 
quiries;  and  every  day  the  sage  duenna  repeated  her 
stories,  which  were  listened  to  with  unmoved  inter 
est,  though  frequent  sighs,  by  her  gentle  auditors. 
The  discreet  old  woman  at  length  awakened  to  the 
mischief  she  might  be  doing.  She  had  been  ac 
customed  to  think  of  the  princesses  only  as  children, 
but  they  had  imperceptibly  ripened  beneath  her  eye, 
and  now  bloomed  before  her  three  lovely  damsels  of 
the  marriageable  age. — It  is  time,  thought  the 
duenna,  to  give  notice  to  the  king. 

Mohamed  the  left-handed  was  seated  one  morn 
ing  on  a  divan  in  one  of  the  court  halls  of  the  Al- 
rrnnbra,  when  a  noble  arrived  from  the  fortress  of 
Salobrefia,  with  a  message  from  the  sage  Cadiga, 
congratulating  him  on  the  anniversary  of  his 
daughters'  birth-day.  The  slave  at  the  same  time 
presented  a  delicate  little  basket  decorated  with 
flowers,  within  which,  on  a  couch  of  vine  and  fig 
leaves,  lay  a  peach,  an  apricot,  and  a  nectarine,  with 


138  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

their  bloom  and  down,  and  dewy  sweetness  upon 
them,  and  all  in  the  early  stage  of  tempting  ripeness. 
The  monarch  was  versed  in  the  oriental  language 
of  fruits  and  flowers,  and  readily  divined  the  mean 
ing  of  this  emblematical  offering. 

"  So  ! "  said  he,  "  the  critical  period  pointed  out 
by  the  astrologers  is  arrived. — My  daughters  are  at 
a  marriageable  age.  What  is  to  be  done  ?  They  are 
shut  up  from  the  eyes  of  men, — they  are  under  the 
eye  of  the  discreet  Cadiga — all  very  good — but  still 
they  are  not  under  my  own  eye,  as  was  prescribed 
by  the  astrologers. — '  I  must  gather  them  under  my 
wing,  and  trust  to  no  other  guardianship.'  " 

So  saying,  he  ordered  that  a  tower  of  the  Alham- 
bra  should  be  prepared  for  their  reception,  and  de 
parted  at  the  head  of  his  guards  for  the  fortress  of 
Salobreiia,  to  conduct  them  home  in  person. 

About  three  years  had  elapsed  since  Mohamed 
had  beheld  his  daughters,  and  he  could  scarcely 
credit  his  eyes  at  the  wonderful  change  which  that 
small  space  of  time  had  made  in  their  appearance. 
During  the  interval  they  had  passed  that  wondrous 
boundary  line  in  female  life,  which  separates  the 
crude,  unformed  and  thoughtless  girl  from  the  bloom 
ing,  blushing,  meditative  woman.  It  is  like  passing 
from  the  flat,  bleak,  uninteresting  plains  of  La 
Mancha  to  the  voluptuous  valleys  and  swelling  hills 
of  Andalusia. 

Zayda  was  tall  and  finely  formed,  with  a  lofty  de 
meanour  and  a  penetrating  ejs.  She  entered  with 
a  stately  and  decided  step,  and  made  a  profound 
reverence  to  Mohamed,  treating  him  more  as  her 
sovereign  than  her  father.  Zorayda  was  of  the 
middle  height,  with  an  alluring  look  and  swimming 
gait,  and  a  sparkling  beauty  heightened  by  the  as 
sistance  of  the  toilette.  She  approached  her  father 
with  a  smile,  kissed  his  hand,  and  saluted  him  with 
several  stanzas  from  a  popular  Arabian  poet,  with 


THREE  BEAUTIFUL  PRINCESSES.     139 

which  the  monarch  was  delighted.  Zorahayda  was 
shy  and  timid  ;  smaller  than  her  sisters,  and  with  a 
beauty  of  that  tender,  beseeching  kind  which  looks 
for  fondness  and  protection.  She  was  little  fitted  to 
command  like  her  elder  sister,  or  to  dazzle  like  the 
second ;  but  was  rather  formed  to  creep  to  the 
bosom  of  manly  affection,  to  nestle  within  it,  and  be 
content.  She  drew  near  her  father  with  a  timid  and 
almost  faltering  step,  and  would  have  taken  his  hand 
to  kiss,  but  on  looking  up  into  his  face,  and  seeing  it 
beaming  with  a  paternal  smile,  the  tenderness  of  her 
nature  broke  forth,  and  she  threw  herself  upon  his 
neck. 

Mohamed,  the  left-handed,  surveyed  his  blooming 
daughters  with  mingled  pride  and  perplexity  ;  for 
while  he  exulted  in  their  charms,  he  bethought  him 
self  of  the  prediction  of  the  astrologers.  "  Three 
daughters  ! — three  daughters  !  "  muttered  he,  re 
peatedly  to  himself,  "  and  all  of  a  marriageable  age  ! 
Here's  tempting  hesperian  fruit,  that  requires  a 
dragon  watch  ! " 

He  prepared  for  his  return  to  Granada,  by  send 
ing  heralds  before  him,  commanding  every  one  to 
keep  out  of  the  road  by  which  he  was  to  pass,  and 
that  all  doors  and  windows  should  be  closed  at  the 
approach  of  the  princesses.  This  done,  he  set  forth 
escorted  by  a  troop  of  black  horsemen  of  hideous 
aspect,  and  clad  in  shining  armour. 

The  princesses  rode  beside  the  king,  closely  veiled, 
on  beautiful  white  palfreys,  with  velvet  caparisons 
embroidered  with  gold,  and  sweeping  the  ground  ; 
the  bits  and  stirrups  were  of  gold,  and  the  silken 
bridles  adorned  with  pearls  and  precious  stones. 
The  palfreys  were  covered  with  little  silver  bells  that 
made  the  most  musical  tinkling  as  they  ainbk*d 
gently  along.  Wo  to  the  unlucky  wight, "however, 
who  lingered  in  the  way  when  he  heard  the  tinkling 
of  these  bells — tho  guards  were  ordered  to  cut  him 
down  without  niux-v. 


140  TEE  ALHAMBRA. 

The  cavalcade  was  drawing  near  to  Granada, 
when  it  overtook,  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Xenil,  a 
small  body  of  Moorish  soldiers,  with  a  convoy  of 
prisoners.  It  was  too  late  for  the  soldiers  to  get  out 
of  the  way,  so  they  threw  themselves  on  their  faces 
on  the  earth,  ordering  their  captives  to  do  the  like. 
Among  the  prisoners,  were  the  three  identical  cava 
liers  whom  the  princesses  had  seen  from  the  pavilion. 
They  either  did  not  understand,  or  were  too  haughty 
to  obey  the  order,  and  remained  standing  and  gazing 
upon  the  cavalcade  as  it  approached. 

The  ire  of  the  monarch  was  kindled  at  this  fla 
grant  defiance  of  his  orders,  and  he  determined  to 
punish  it  with  his  own  hand.  Drawing  his  scimitar 
and  pressing  forward,  he  was  about  to  deal  a  left- 
handed  blow,  that  would  have  been  fatal  to  at  least 
one  of  the  gazers,  when  the  princesses  crowded 
round  him,  and  implored  mercy  for  the  prisoners  ; 
even  the  timid  Zorahayda  forgot  her  shyness  and 
became  eloquent  in  their  behalf.  Mohamed  paused, 
with  uplifted  scimitar,  when  the  captain  of  the  guard 
threw  himself  at  his  feet.  "  Let  not  your  majesty," 
said  he,  "  do  a  deed  that  may  cause  great  scandal 
throughout  the  kingdom.  These  are  three  brave 
and  noble  Spanish  knights  who  have  been  taken  in 
battle,  fighting  like  lions  ;  they  are  of  high  birth, 
and  may  bring  great  ransoms." 

"  Enough,"  said  the  king ;  "  I  will  spare  their 
lives,  but  punish  their  audacity — let  them  be  taken  to 
the  Vermilion  towers  and  put  to  hard  labour." 

Mohamed  was  making  one  of  his  usual  left-handed 
blunders.  In  the  tumult  and  agitation  of  this  blus 
tering  scene,  the  veils  of  the  three  princesses  had 
been  thrown  back,  and  the  radiance  of  their  beauty 
revealed  ;  and  in  prolonging  the  parley,  the  king 
had  given  that  beauty  time  to  have  its  full  effect.  In 
those  days,  people  fell  in  love  much  more  suddenly 
than  at  present,  as  all  ancient  stories  make  manifest ; 


THREE  BEAUTIFUL  PRINCESSES.     141 

It  Is  not  a  matter  of  wonder,  therefore,  that  the 
hearts  of  the  three  cavaliers  were  completely  capti 
vated  ;  especially  as  gratitude  was  added  to  their 
admiration  :  it  is  a  little  singular,  however,  though 
no  less  certain,  that  each  of  them  was  enraptured 
with  a  several  beauty.  As  to  the  princesses,  they 
were  more  than  ever  struck  with  the  noble  demean 
our  of  the  captives,  and  cherished  in  their  hearts  all 
that  they  had  heard  of  their  valour  and  noble  lineage. 

The  cavalcade  resumed  its  march ;  the  three  prin 
cesses  rode  pensively  along  on  their  tinkling  pal 
freys,  now  and  then  stealing  a  glance  behind  in 
search  of  the  Christian  captives,  and  the  latter  were 
conducted  to  their  allotted  prison  in  the  Vermilion 
towers. 

The  residence  provided  for  the  princesses,  was  one 
of  the  most  dainty  that  fancy  could  devise.  It  was 
in  a  tower  somewhat  apart  from  the  main  palace  of 
the  Alhambra,  though  connected  with  it  by  the  main 
wall  that  encircled  the  whole  summit  of  the  hill.  On 
one  side  it  looked  into  the  interior  of  the  fortress, 
and  had  at  its  foot  a  small  garden  filled  with  the 
rirest  flowers.  On  the  other  side  it  overlooked  a 
deep  embowered  ravine,  that  separated  the  grounds 
of  the  Alhambra  from  those  of  the  Generaliffe.  The 
interior  of  the  tower  was  divided  into  small  fairy 
apartments,  beautifully  ornamented  in  the  light 
Arabian  style,  surrounding  a  lofty  hall,  the  vaulted 
roof  of  which  rose  almost  to  the  summit  of  the  tower. 
The  walls  and  ceiling  of  the  hall  were  adorned  with 
arabesques  and  fret-work  sparkling  with  gold,  and 
with  brilliant  pencilling.  In  the  centre  of  the  marble 
pavement,  was  an  alabaster  fountain,  set  round  with 
aromatic  shrubs  and  flowers,  and  throwing  up  a  jet 
of  water  that  cooled  the  whole  edifice  and  had  a 
lulling  sound.  Round  the  hall  were  suspended  cages 
of  gold  and  silver  wire,  containing  singing  birds  of 
the  finest  nlumaffe  or  sweetest  note. 


142  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

The  princesses  having  been  represented  as  always 
cheerful  when  in  the  castle  of  Salobrena,  the  king 
had  expected  to  see  them  enraptured  with  the  Al- 
hambra.  To  his  surprise,  however,  they  began  to 
pine,  and  grew  green  and  melancholy,  and  dissatis 
fied  with  every  thing  around  them.  The  flowers 
yielded  them  no  fragrance  ;  the  song  of  the  night 
ingale  disturbed  their  night's  rest,  and  they  were 
out  of  all  patience  with  the  alabaster  fountain,  with 
its  eternal  drop,  drop,  and  splash,  splash,  from  morn 
ing  till  night,  and  from  night  till  morning. 

The  king,  who  was  somewhat  of  a  testy,  tyranni 
cal  old  man,  took  this  at  first  in  high  dudgeon  ;  but 
he  reflected  that  his  daughters  had  arrived  at  an  age 
when  the  female  mind  expands  and  its  desires  aug 
ment.  "They  are  no  longer  children,"  said  he  to 
himself;  "they  are  women  grown,  and  require  suit 
able  objects  to  interest  them."  He  put  in  requisi 
tion,  therefore,  all  the  dress  makers,  and  the  jewel 
lers,  and  the  artificers  in  gold  and  silver  throughout 
the  Zacatin  of  Granada,  and  the  princesses  were 
overwhelmed  with  robes  of  silk,  and  of  tissue  and 
of  brocade,  and  cachemire  shawls,  and  necklaces  of 
pearls,  and  diamonds,  and  rings,  and  bracelets,  and 
anklets,  and  all  manner  of  precious  things. 

All.  however,  was  of  no  avail.  The  princesses 
continued  pale  and  languid  in  the  midst  of  the  i 
finery,  and  looked  like  three  blighted  rose  buds, 
drooping  from  one  stalk.  The  king  was  at  his  wit's 
end.  He  had  in  general  a  laudable  confidence  in 
his  own  judgment,  and  never  took  advice.  "  The 
whims  and  caprices  of  three  marriageable  damsf  Is, 
however,  are  sufficient,"  said  he,  "  to  puzzle  the 
shrewdest  head." — So,  for  once  in  his  life,  he  called 
in  the  aid  of  counsel. 

The  person  to  whom  he  applied  was  the  experi 
enced  duenna. 

"Cadiga,"  said  the  king,  "  I  know  you  to  be  one 


THREE  BEAUTIFUL  PRINCESSES.     143 

of  the  most  discreet  women  in  the  whole  world,  as 
well  as  one  of  the  most  trustworthy ;  for  these  rea 
sons,  I  have  always  continued  you  about  the  persona 
of  my  daughters.  Fathers  cannot  be  too  wary  in 
whom  they  repose  such  confidence.  I  now  wish  you 
to  find  out  the  secret  malady  that  is  preying  upoa 
the  princesses,  and  to  devise  some  means  of  restor 
ing  them  to  health  and  cheerfulness." 

Cadiga  promised  implicit  obedience.  In  fact,  she 
knew  more  of  the  malady  of  the  princesses  than 
they  did  themselves.  Shutting  herself  up  with 
them,  however,  she  endeavoured  to  insinuate  her 
self  into  their  confidence. 

"  My  dear  children,  what  is  the  reason  you  are  so 
dismal  and  downcast,  in  so  beautiful  a  place,  where 
you  have  every  thing  that  heart  can  wish  ?  " 

The  princesses  looked  vacantly  round  the  apart 
ment,  and  sighed. 

"  What  more,  then,  would  you  have  ?  Shall  I  get 
you  the  wonderful  parrot  that  talks  all  languages, 
and  is  the  delight  of  Granada?" 

"  Odious  !  "  exclaimed  the  princess  Zayda.  "  A 
horrid  screaming  bird  that  chatters  words  without 
ideas  !  One  must  be  without  brains  to  tolerate  such 
a  pest." 

"  Shall  I  send  for  a  monkey  from  the  rock  of  Gib 
raltar,  to  divert  you  with  his  antics  ?  " 

"A  monkey!  faugh!"  cried  Zorayda,  "the  de 
testable  mimic  of  man.  I  hate  the  nauseous 
animal." 

"  What  say  you  to  the  famous  black  singer,  Casern, 
from  the  royal  harem  in  Morocco.  They  say  he  has 
a  voice  as  fine  as  a  woman's." 

"  I  am  terrified  at  the  sight  of  these  black  slaves," 
said  the  delicate  Zorahayda  ;  "  beside,  I  have  lost  all 
relish  for  music." 

"  Ah,  my  child,  you  would  not  say  so,"  replied  the 
old  woman,  slyly,  "  had  you  heard  the  music  I  heard 


144  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

last  evening,  from  the  three  Spanish  cavaliers  whom 
we  met  on  our  journey. — But  bless  me,  children ! 
what  is  the  matter  that  you  blush  so,  and  are  in  such 
a  flutter  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  nothing,  good  mother,  pray  proceed." 

"Well — as  I  was  passing  by  the  Vermilion  tow 
ers,  last  evening,  I  saw  the  three  cavaliers  resting 
after  their  day's  labour.  One  was  playing  on  the 
guitar  so  gracefully,  and  the  others  sang  by  turns — 
and  they  did  it  in  such  style,  that  the  very  guards 
seemed  like  statues  or  men  enchanted.  Allah  for 
give  me,  1  could  not  help  being  moved  at  hearing 
the  songs  of  my  native  country.-  —And  then  to  see 
three  such  noble  and  handsome  youths  in  chains  and 
slavery." 

Here  the  kind-hearted  old  woman  rould  not  re 
strain  her  tears. 

"  Perhaps,  mother,  you  could  manage  to  procure 
us  a  sight  of  these  cavaliers,"  said  Zayda. 

"  1  think,"  said  Zorayda,  "a  little  nrisic  would  be 
quite  reviving." 

The  timid  Zorahayda  said  nothing,  but  threw  her 
arms  round  the  neck  of  Cacliga. 

44  Mercy  on  me ! "  exclaimed  the  discreet  old 
woman ;  4<  what  are  vou  talking  of,  my  children-* 
Your  father  would  be  the  death  of  us  all,  if  he  heard 
of  such  a  thing.  To  be  sure,  these  cavaliers  are 
evidently  well-bred  and  high-minded  youths  —  but 
what  of  that !  they  are  the  enemies  of  our  faith,  and 
you  must  not  even  think  of  them,  but  with  abhor- 
renje." 

There  is  an  admirable  intrepidity  in  the  female 
will,  particularly  about  the  marriageable  age,  which 
is  not  to  be  deterred  by  dangers  and  prohibitions. 
The  princesses  hung  round  their  old  duenna,  and 
coaxed  and  entreated,  and  declared  that  a  refusal 
would  break  their  hearts.  What  could  she  do  ?  She 
was  certainly  the  most  discreet  old  woman  in  the 


THREE  BEAUTIFUL  PRINCESSES,     145 

whole  world,  and  one  of  the  most  faithful  servants 
to  the  king — but  was  she  to  see  three  beautiful  prin 
cesses  break  their  hearts  for  the  mere  tinkling  of  a 
guitar?  Beside,  though  she  had  been  so  long  among 
the  Moors,  and  changed  her  faith,  in  imitation  of  her 
mistress,  like  a  trusty  follower,  yet  she  was  a  Span 
iard  born,  and  had  the  lingerings  of  Christianity  in 
her  heart.  So  she  set  about  to  contrive  how  the 
wishes  of  the  princesses  might  be  gratified. 

The  Christian  captives  confined  in  the  Vermilion 
towers,  were  under  the  charge  of  a  big-whiskered, 
broad-shouldered  renegado,  called  Hussein  Eaba, 
who  was  reported  to  have  a  most  itching  palm.  She 
went  to  him,  privately,  and  slipping  a  broad  piece  of 
gold  into  his  hand,  "Hussein  Baba,"  said  she,  "my 
mistresses,  the  three  princesses,  who  are  shut  up  iit 
the  tower,  and  in  sad  want  of  amusement,  have 
heard  of  the  musical  talents  of  the  three  Spanish 
cavaliers,  and  are  desirous  of  hearing  a  specimen  of 
their  skill.  I  am  sure  you  are  too  kind-hearted  to 
refuse  them  so  innocent  a  gratification." 

"  What,  and  to  have  my  head  set  grinning  over 
the  gate  of  my  own  tower — for  that  would  be  the 
rewird,  if  the  king  should  discover  it  " 

"  No  danger  of  any  thing  of  the  kind  ;  the  affair 
may  be  managed  so  that  the  whim  of  the  princesses 
may  be  gratified,  and  their  father  be  never  the  wiser. 
You  know  the  deep  ravine  outside  of  the  walls,  that 
passes  immediately  below  the  tower.  Put  the  three 
Christians  to  work  there,  and  at  the  intervals  of 
their  labour  let  them  play  and  sing,  as  if  for  their 
own  recreation.  In  this  way,  the  princesses  will  be 
able  to  hear  them  from  the  windows  of  the  tower, 
and  you  may  be  sure  of  their  paying  well  for  your 
Compliance." 

As  the  good  old  woman  concluded  her  harangue, 
she  kindly  pressed  the  rough  hand  of  the  renegado, 
and  left  within  it  another  piece  of  gold_. 


146  THE  ALHAMBEA. 

Her  eloquence  was  irresistible.  The  very  next 
day  the  three  cavaliers  were  put  to  work  in  the  ra 
vine.  During  the  noon-tide  heat  when  their  fellow 
labourers  were  sleeping  in  the  shade,  and  the  guard 
nodded  drowsily  at  his  post,  they  seated  themselves 
among  the  herbage  at  the  foot  of  the  tower,  and 
sang  a  Spanish  roundelay  to  the  accompaniment  of 
the  guitar. 

The  glen  was  deep,  the  tower  was  high,  but  their 
voices  rose  distinctly  in  the  stillness  of  the  summer 
noon.  The  princesses  listened  from  their  balcony  ; 
they  had  been  taught  the  Spanish  language  by  their 
duenna,  and  were  moved  by  the  tenderness  of  the 
song. 

The  discreet  Cadiga,  on  the  contrary,  was  terribly 
shocked.  "Allah  preserve  us,"  cried  she,  "they 
are  singing  a  love  ditty  addressed  to  yourselves, — 
did  ever  mortal  hear  of  such  audacity?  I  will  run 
to  the  slave  master  and  have  them  soundly  basti 
nadoed." 

"  What,  bastinado  such  gallant  cavaliers,  and  for 
singing  so  charmingly  !  "  The  thre'j  beautiful  prin 
cesses  were  filled  with  horror  at  the  idea.  With  all 
her  virtuous  indignation,  the  good  old  woman  was 
of  a  placable  nature  and  easily  appeased,  Beside, 
the  music  seemed  to  have  a  beneficial  effect  upon 
her  young  mistresses.  A  rosy  bloom  had  already 
come  to  their  cheeks,  and  their  eyes  began  to 
sparkle.  She  made  no  farther  objection,  therefore, 
to  the  amorous  ditty  of  the  cavaliers. 

When  it  was  finished,  the  princesses  remained 
silent  for  a  time  ;  at  length  Zorayda  took  up  a  lute, 
and  with  a  sweet,  though  faint  and  trembling  voice 
warbled  a  little  Arabian  air,  the  burden  of  which 
was,  "The  rose  is  concealed  among  her  leaves, 
but  she  listens  with  delight  to  the  song  of  the  night 
ingale." 

From   this  time   forward    the    cavaliers  worked 


THREE  BEAUTIFUL  PRINONSS-E8.     147 

almost  daily  in  the  ravine.  The  considerate  Hussein 
Baba  became  more  and  more  indulgent,  and  daily 
more  prone  to  sleep  at  his  post.  For  some  time  a 
vague  intercourse  was  kept  up  by  popular  songs  and 
romances ;  which  in  some  measure  responded  to 
each  other,  and  breathed  the  feelings  of  the  parties. 
By  degrees  the  princesses  showed  themselves  at  the 
balcony,  when  they  could  do  so  without  being  per 
ceived  by  the  guards.  They  conversed  with  the 
cavaliers  also  by  means  of  flowers,  with  the  sym 
bolical  language  of  which  they  were  mutually  ac 
quainted  :  the  difficulties  of  their  intercourse  added 
to  its  charms,  and  strengthened  the  passion  they 
had  so  singularly  conceived ;  for  love  delights  to 
struggle  with  difficulties,  and  thrives  the  most 
hardily  on  the  scantiest  soil. 

The  change  effected  in  the  looks  and  spirits  of 
the  princesses  by  this  secret  intercourse,  surprised 
and  gratified  the  left-handed  king ;  but  no  one  was 
more  elated  than  the  discreet  Cadiga,  who  consider 
ed  it  all  owing  to  her  able  management. 

At  length  there  was  an  interruption  in  this  tele 
graphic  correspondence,  for  several  days  the  cavaliers 
ceased  to  make  their  appearance  in  the  glen.  The 
three  beautiful  princesses  looked  out  from  the  tower 
in  vain. — In  vain  they  stretched  their  swan-like  necks 
from  the  balcony ;  in  vain  they  sang  like  captive 
nightingales  in  their  cage  ;  nothing  was  to  be  seen 
of  their  Christian  lovers,  not  a  note  responded  from 
the  groves.  The  discreet  Cadiga  sallied  forth  in 
quest  of  intelligence,  and  soon  returned  with  a  face 
full  of  trouble.  "Ah,  my  children  !  "  cried  she,  "  I 
saw  what  all  this  would  come  to,  but  you  would 
have  your  way  ;  you  may  now  hang  up  your  lutes 
on  the  willows.  The  Spanish  cavaliers  are  ransomed 
by  their  families ;  they  are  down  in  Granada,  and 
preparing  to  return  to  their  native  country," 

The  three  beautiful  princesses  were  in  despair  at 


148  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

the  tidings.  The  fair  Zaycla  was  indignant  at  the 
slight  put  upon  them,  in  being  thus  deserted  without 
a  parting  word.  Zorayda  wrung  her  hands  and 
cried,  and  looked  in  the  glass,  and  wiped  away  her 
tears,  and  cried  afresh.  The  gentle  Zorahayda 
leaned  over  the  balcony,  and  wept  in  silence,  and 
her  tears  fell  drop  by  drop,  among  the  flowers  of  the 
bank  where  the  faithless  cavaliers  had  so  often  been 
seated. 

The  discreet  Cadiga  did  all  in  her  power  to 
sooth  their  sorrow.  "  Take  comfort,  my  children," 
said  she  ;  "  this  is  nothing  when  you  are  used  to  it. 
This  is  the  way  of  the  world.  Ah,  when  you  are  as 
old  as  I  am,  you  will  know  how  to  value  these  men. 
I'll  warrant  these  cavaliers  have  their  loves  among 
the  Spanish  beauties  of  Cordova  and  Seville,  and  will 
soon  be  serenading  under  their  balconies,  and  think 
ing  no  more  of  the  Moorish  beauties  in  'he  Alham- 
bra. — Take  comfort,  therefore,  my  children,  and 
drive  them  from  your  hearts." 

The  comforting  words  of  the  discreet  Cadiga  only 
redoubled  the  distress  of  the  princesses,  and  for  two 
days  they  continued  inconsolable.  On  the  morning 
of  the  third,  the  good  old  woman  entered  their 
apartment  all  ruffling  with  indignation. 

"  Who  would  have  believed  such  insolence  in 
mortal  man  ?  "  exclaimed  she,  as  soon  as  she  could 
find  words  to  express  herself;  "  but  I  am  rightly 
served  for  having  connived  at  this  deception  of  your 
worthy  father — never  talk  more  to  me  of  your  Span 
ish  cavaliers." 

"  Why,  what  has  happened,  good  Cadiga  ?  "  ex 
claimed  the  princesses,  in  breathless  anxiety. 

"What  has  happened  ?  treason  has  happened! — 
or  what  is  almost  as  bn.d,  treason  has  been  proposed  > 
— and  to  me — the  faithfulest  of  subjects — the  trustiest/ 
of  duennas — yes,  my  children— the  Spanish  cavalier; 
have  dared  to  tamper  with  me ;  that  I  should  per- 

i 


THREE  BEAUTIFUL  PRINCESSES.     149 

suade  you  to  fly  with  them  to  Cordova,  and  become 
their  wives." 

Here  the  excellent  old  woman  covered  her  face 
with  her  hands,  and  gave  way  to  a  violent  burst  of 
grief  and  indignation. 

The  three  beautiful  princesses  turned  pale  and 
red,  and  trembled,  and  looked  down ;  and  cast  shy 
looks  at  each  other,  but  said  nothing:  meantime, 
the  old  woman  sat  rocking  backward  and  forward 
in  violent  agitation^  and  no\v  and  then  breaking  out 
into  exclamations—"  That  ever  I  should  live  to  be 
so  insulted — I,  the  faithfulest  of  servants  !  " 

At  length  the  eldest  princess,  who  had  most 
spirit,  and  always  took  the  lead,  approached  her, 
and  laying  her  hand  upon  her  shoulder — "Well, 
mother,"  said  she,  "  supposing  we  were  willing  to 
fly  with  these  Christian  cavaliers — is  such  a  thing 
possible?" 

The  good  old  woman  paused  suddenly  in  her 
grief,  and  looking  up — "  Possible  !  "  echoed  she,  "to 
be  sure  it  is  possible.  Have  not  the  cavaliers  al 
ready  bribed  Hussein  Baba,  the  renegado  captain  of 
the  guard,  and  arranged  the  whole  plan  ? — But  then 
to  think  of  deceiving  your  father — your  father,  who 
has  placed  such  confidence  in  me?'' 

Here  the  worthy  old  woman  gave  way  to  a  fresh 
burst  of  grief,  and  began  again  to  rock  backwards 
and  forwards,  and  to  wring  her  hands. 

"  But  our  father  has  never  placed  any  confidence 
in  us,"  said  the  eldest  princess  ;  "  but  has  trusted  to 
bolts  and  bars,  and  treated  us  as  captives." 

"  Why,  that  is  true  enough,"  replied  the  old  woman, 
again  pausing  in  her  grief—"  He  has  indeed  treated 
you  most  unreasonably.  Keeping  you  shut  up  here 
to  waste  your  bloom  in  a  moping  old  tower,  like  roses 
left  to  wither  in  a  flower  jar.  But  then  to  fly  from 
your  native  land." 

"  And  is  not  the  land  we  fly  to,  the  native  land  of 


150  THE  ALEAMBRA. 

our  mother  ;  where  we  shall  live  in  freedom  ? — and 
shall  we  not  each  have  a  youthful  husband  in  ex 
change  for  a  severe  old  father  ?  " 

"  Why,  that  again  is  all  very  true — and  your  father, 
I  must  confess,  is  rather  tyrannical. — But  what  then" 
— relapsing  into  her  grief — "  would  you  leave  me  be 
hind  to  bear  the  brunt  of  his  vengeance  ?  " 

"  By  no  means,  my  good  Cadiga.  Cannot  you  fly 
with  us?  " 

"  Very  true,  my  child,  and  to  tell  the  truth,  when 
I  talked  the  matter  over  with  Hussein  Baba,  he  prom 
ised  to  take  care  of  me  if  I  would  accompany  you 
in  your  flight :  but  then,  bethink  you,  my  children ; 
are  you  willing  to  renounce  the  faith  of  your 
father?" 

"  The  Christian  faith  was  the  original  faith  of  our 
mother,"  said  the  eldest  princess ;  "  I  am  ready  to 
embrace  it ;  and  so  I  am  sure  are  iny  sisters." 

"  Right  again  !  "  exclaimed  the  old  woman,  bright 
ening  up.  "  It  was  the  original  faith  of  your  mother  ; 
and  bitterly  did  she  lament,  on  her  death-bed,  that 
she  had  renounced  it.  I  promised  her  then  to  take 
care  of  your  souls,  and  I  am  rejoiced  to  see  th.it  they 
are  now  in  a  fair  way  to  be  saved.  Yes,  my  children  ; 
I  too  was  born  a  Christian— and  have  always  been  a 
Christian  in  my  heart ;  and  am  resolved  to  return  to 
the  faith.  I  have  talked  on  the  subject  with  Hussein 
Baba,  who  is  a  Spaniard  by  birth,  and  comes  from  a 
place  not  far  from  my  native  town.  He  is  equally 
anxious  to  see  his  own  country  and  to  be  reconciled 
•  to  the  church,  and  the  cavaliers  have  promised  that 
if  we  are  disposed  to  become  man  and  wife  on 
returning  to  our  native  land,  they  will  provide  for  us 
handsomely." 

In  a  word,  it  appeared  that  this  extremely  dis 
creet  and  provident  old  woman  had  consulted  with 
the  cavaliers  and  the  renegade,,  and  had  concerted 
the. whole  plan  of  escape.  The  eldest  princess  im- 


THREE  BEAUTIFUL  P&&TUE88EB.     151 

mediately  assented  to  ft,  and  her  example  as  usual 
determined  the  conduct  of  her  sisters.  It  is  true, 
the  youngest  hesitated,  for  she  was  gentle  and  timid 
of  soul,  and  there  was  a  struggle  In  her  bosom  be 
tween  filial  feeling  and  youthful  passion.  The  latter 
however,  as  usual,  gained  the  victory,  and  with* 
silent  tears  and  stifled  sighs  she  prepared  herself  for 
flight. 

The  rugged  hill  on  which  the  Alhambra  is  built 
was  in  old  times  perforated  with  subterranean,  pas 
sages,  cut  through  the  rock,  and  leading  from  the 
fortress  to  various  parts  of  the  city,  and  to  distant 
sally-ports  on  the  banks  of  the  Darro  and  the  Xenil. 
They  had  been  constructed  at  different  times,  by  the 
Moorish  kings,  as  means  of  escape  from  sudden  in 
surrection,  or  of  secretly  issuing  forth  on  private 
enterprises.  Many  of  them  are  now  entirely  lost, 
while  others  remain,  partly  choked  up  with  rubbish, 
and  partly  walled  up — monuments  of  the  jealous 
precautions  and  warlike  stratagems  of  the  Moorish 
government.  By  one  of  these  passages,  Hussein 
Baba  had  undertaken  to  conduct  the  princesses  to  a 
sally-port  beyond  the  walls  of  the  city,  where  the 
cavaliers  were  to  be  ready  with  fleet  steeds  to  bear 
them  all  over  the  borders. 

The  appointed  night  arrived.  The  tower  of  the 
princesses  had  been  locked  up  as  usual,  and  the  Al 
hambra  was  buried  in  deep  sleep.  Towards  mid 
night  the  discreet  Cadiga  listened  from  a  balcony  of  a 
window  that  looked  into  the  garden.  Hussein  Baba, 
the  renegado,  was  already  below,  and  gave  the  ap 
pointed  signal.  The  duenna  fastened  the  end  of  a 
ladder  of  ropes  to  the  balcony,  lowered  it  into  the 
garden,  and  descended.  The  two  eldest  princesses 
followed  her  with  beating  hearts ;  but  when  it  came 
to  the  turn  of  the  youngest  princess,  Zorahayda,  she 
hesitated  and  trembled.  Several  times  she  ventured 
a  delicate  little  foot  upon  the  ladder,  and  as  often 


152  THtf  ALHAMBRA. 

drew  it  back ;  while  her  poor  little  heart  fluttered  more 
and  more  the  longer  she  delayed.  She  cast  a  wistful 
look  back  into  the  si! ken  chamber  ;  she  had  lived  in 
it,  to  be  sure,  like  a  bird  in  a  cage,  but  within  it  she 
was  secure— who  could  not  tell  what  dangers  might 
beset  her  should  she  flutter  forth  into  the  wide  world  ? 
Now  she  bethought  her  of  her  gallant  Christian 
lover,  and  her  little  foot  was  instantly  upon  the  lad 
der,  and  anon  she  thought  of  her  father,  and  shrunk 
back.  But  fruitless  is  the  attempt  to  describe  the 
conflict  in  the  bosom  of  one  so  young,  and  tender, 
and  loving,  but  so  dmid  and  so  ignorant  of  the 
world.  In  vain  her  sisters  implored,  the  duenna 
scolded,  and  the  renegado  blasphemed  beneath  the 
balcony.  The  gentle  little  Moorish  maid  stood 
doubting  and  wavering  on  the  verge  of  elopement  ; 
tempted  by  the  sweetness  of  the  sin,  but  terrified  at 
its  perils. 

Every  moment  increased  the  danger  of  discovery. 
A  distant  tramp  was  heard. — "  The  patrols  are  walk 
ing  the  rounds."  cried  the  renegado;  "if  we  linger 
longer  we  perish — princess,  descend  instantly,  or  we 
leave  you." 

Zorahayda  was  for  a  moment  in  fearful  agitation, 
then  loosening  the  ladder  of  ropes,  with  desperate 
resolution  she  flung  it  from  the  balcony. 

"  It  is  decided,"  cried  she,  "  flight  is  now  out  of 
my  power  ! — Allah  guide  and  bless  ye,  my  dear  sis 
ters  ! " 

The  two  eldest  princesses  were  shocked  at  the 
thoughts  of  leaving  her  behind,  and  would  fain  have 
lingered,  but  the  patrol  was  advancing;  the  rene 
gado  was  furious,  and  they  were  hurried  away  to 
the  subterraneous  passage.  They  groped  their  way 
through  a  fearful  labyrinth  cut  through  the  heart  of 
the  mountain,  and  succeeded  in  reaching,  undiscov 
ered,  an  iron  gate  that  opened  outside  of  the  walls. 
The  Spanish  cavaliers  were  waiting  to  receive  them, 


THREE  BEAUTIFUL  PRINCESSES.     153 

disguised  as  Moorish  soldiers  of  the  guard  com 
manded  by  the  renegade. 

The  lover  of  Zorahayda  was  frantic  when  he 
learned  that  she  had  refused  to  leave  the  tower; 
but  there  was  no  time  to  waste  in  lamentations. 
The  two  princesses  were  placed  behind  their  lovers ; 
the  discreet  Cadiga  mounted  behind  the  renegade, 
and  all  set  off  at  a  round  pace  in  the  direction  of  the 
pass  of  Lope,  which  leads  through  the  mountains 
towards  Cordova. 

They  had  not  proceeded  far  when  they  heard  the 
noise  of  drums  and  trumpets  from  the  battlements 
of  the  Alhambra.  "Our  flight  is  discovered,"  said 
the  renegado.  "  We  have  fleet  steeds,  the  night  is 
dark,  and  we  may  distance  all  pursuit,"  replied  the 
cavaliers. 

They  put  spurs  to  their  horses  and  scoured  across 
the  Vega.  They  attained  to  the  foot  of  the  moun 
tain  of  Elvira,  which  stretches  like  a  promontory 
into  the  plain.  The  renegado  paused  and  listened. 
"As  yet,"  said  he,  "  there  is  no  one  on  our  traces, 
we  shall  make  good  our  escape  to  the  mountains." 
While  he  spoke  a  ball  of  fire  sprang  up  in  a  light 
blaze  on  the  top  of  the  watch-tower  of  the  Al 
hambra. 

"  Confusion  !  "  cried  the  renegado,  "  that  fire  will 
put  all  the  guards  of  the  passes  on  the  alert. 
Away,  away,  spur  like  mad ;  there  is  no  time  to  be 
lost." 

Away  they  dashed — the  clattering  of  their  horses' 
hoofs  echoed  from  rock  to  rock  as  they  swept  along 
the  road  that  skirts  the  rocky  mountain  of  Elvira. 
As  they  galloped  on,  they  beheld  that  the  ball  of  fire 
of  the  Alhambra  was  answered  in  every  direction  ; 
light  after  light  blazed  on  the  atalayas  or  watch- 
towers  of  the  mountains. 

44  Forward  !  forward  !  "  cried  the  renegado,  with 
many  an  oath — "  to  the  bridge  ! — to  the  bridge  ! 
before  the  alarm  has  re-ached  there." 


154  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

They  doubled  the  promontory  of  the  mountain, 
and  arrived  in  sight  of  the  famous  Puente  del  Pinos, 
that  crosses  a  rushing  stream  often  dyed  with  Chris 
tian  and  Moslem  blood.  To  their  confusion  the 
tower  on  the  bridge  blazed  with  lights  and  glittered 
with  armed  men.  The  renegade  pulled  up  his 
steed,  rose  in  his  stirrups  and  looked  about  him  for 
a  moment,  then  beckoning  to  the  cavaliers  he  struck 
ofif  from  the  road,  skirted  the  river  for  some  dis 
tance,  and  dashed  into  its  waters.  The  cavaliers 
called  upon  the  princesses  to  cling  to  them,  and  did  the 
same.  They  were  borne  for  some  distance  down  the 
rapid  current,  the  surges  roared  round  them,  but  the 
beautiful  princesses  clung  to  their  Christian  knights 
and  never  uttered  a  complaint.  The  cavaliers  at 
tained  the  opposite  bank  in  safety,  and  were  con 
ducted  by  the  renegado,  by  rude  and  unfrequented 
paths,  and  wild  barrancos  through  the  heart  of  the 
mountains,  so  as  to  avoid  all  the  regular  passes.  In 
a  word,  they  succeeded  in  reaching  the  ancient  city 
of  Cordova  ;  when  their  restoration  to  their  country 
and  friends  was  celebrated  with  great  rejoicings, 
for  they  were  of  the  noblest  families.  The  beau 
tiful  princesses  were  forthwith  received  into  the 
bosom  of  the  church,  and  after  being  in  all  due 
form  made  regular  Christians,  were  rendered  happy 
lovers. 

In  our  hurry  to  make  good  the  escape  of  the 
princesses  across  the  river  and  up  the  mountains, 
we  forgot  to  mention  the  fate  of  the  discreet  Cadiga. 
She  had  clung  like  a  cat  to  Hussein  Baba,  in  the 
scamper  across  the  Vega,  screaming  at  every  bound 
and  drawing  many  an  oath  from  the  whiskered 
renegado  ;  but  when  he  prepared  to  plunge  his  steed 
into  the  river  her  terror  knew  no  bounds. 

"Grasp  me  not  so  tightly,"  cried  Hussein  Baba; 
"hold  on  by  my  belt,  and  fear  nothing." 

She  held  firmly  with  both  hands  by  the  leathern 


THREE  BEAUTIFUL  PRINCESSES.     155 

belt  that  girded  the  broad-backed  renegade;  but 
when  he  halted  with  the  cavaliers  to  take  breath  on 
the  mountain  summit,  the  duenna  was  no  longer  to 
be  seen. 

"  What  has  become  of  Cadiga  ?  "  cried  the  prin 
cesses  in  alarm. 

"  I  know  not,"  replied  the  renegade.  "  My  belt 
came  loose  in  the  midst  of  the  river,  and  Cadiga 
was  swept  with  it  down  the  stream.  The  will  of 
Allah  be  done  ! — but  it  was  an  embroidered  belt 
and  of  great  price  !  " 

There  was  no  time  to  waste  in  idle  reports,  yet 
bitterly  did  the  princesses  bewail  the  loss  of  their 
faithful  and  discreet  counsellor.  That  excellent  old 
woman,  however,  did  not  lose  more  than  half  of  her 
nine  lives  in  the  stream. — A  fisherman  who  was 
drawing  his  nets  some  distance  down  the  stream, 
brought  her  to  land  and  was  not  a  little  astonished 
at  his  miraculous  draught.  What  farther  became 
of  the  discreet  Cadiga,  the  legend  does  not  mention. 
— Certain  it  is,  that  she  evinced  her  discretion  in 
never  venturing  within  the  reach  of  Mohamed  the 
left-handed. 

Almost  as  little  is  known  of  the  conduct  of  that 
sagacious  monarch,  when  he  discovered  the  escape 
of  his  daughters  and.  the  deceit  practised  upon  him 
by  the  most  faithful  of  servants.  It  was  the  only  in 
stance  in  which  he  had  called  in  the  aid  of  counsel, 
and  he  was  never  afterwards  known  to  be  guilty  of 
a  similar  weakness.  He  took  good  care,  however, 
to  guard  his  remaining  daughter  ;  who  had  no  dis 
position  to  elope.  It  is  thought,  indeed,  that  she 
secretly  repented  having  remained  behind.  Now 
and  then  she  was  seen  leaning  on  the  battlements 
of  the  tower  and  looking  mournfully  towards  the 
mountains,  in  the  direction  of  Cordova;  and  some 
times  the  notes  of  her  lute  were  heard  accompanying 
plaintive  ditties,  in  which  she  was  said  to  lament 


156  THE  ALffAMBSA. 

the  loss  of  her  sisters  and  her  lover,  and  to  bewail 
her  solitary  life.  She  died  young,  and,  according  to 
popular  rumour,  was  buried  in  a  vault  beneath  the 
tower,  and  her  untimely  fate  has  given  rise  to  more 
than  one  traditionary  fable. 


LOCAL  TRADITIONS. 

THE  common  people  of  Spain  have  an  oriental  pas 
sion  for  story-telling  and  are  fond  of  the  marvellous. 
They  will  gather  round  the  doors  of  their  cottages  21 
summer  evenings,  or  in  the  great  cavernous  chimney 
corners  of  their  ventas  in  the  winter,  and  listen  with 
insatiable  delight  to  miraculous  legends  of  saints,  per 
ilous  adventures  of  travellers,  and  daring  exploits  of 
robbers  and  contrabandistas.  The  wild  and  solitary 
nature  of  a  great  pan  of  Spain  ;  the  imperfect  state  of 
knowledge  ;  the  scanuness  of  general  topics  of  con 
versation,  and  the  romantic,  adventurous  life  that  every 
one  leads  in  a  land  where  travelling  is  yet  in  its  prim 
itive  state,  all  contribute  to  cherish  this  love  of  oral 
narration,  and  to  produce  a  strong  expression  of  the 
extravagant  and  wonderful.  There  is  no  theme,  how 
ever,  more  prevalent  or  popular  than  that  of  treasures 
buried  by  tne  Moors.  It  pervades  the  whole  country. 
In  traversing  the  wild  Sierras,  the  scenes  of  ancient 
prey  and  exploit,  you  cannot  see  a  Moorish  atalaya  or 
watch-tower  perched  among  the  cliffs,  or  Beetling 
above  its  rock-built  village,  but  your  muleteer,  on  be 
ing  closely  questioned,  will  suspend  the  smoking  of 
his  cigurillo  to  tell  some  tale  of  Moslem  gold  buried 
beneath  its  foundations  ;  nor  is  there  a  ruined  alc_a^jr 
in  a  city,  but  has  its  golden  tradition,  handed  down, 
from  generation  to  generation,  among  the  poor  people 
of  the  neighbourhood. 

These,  like   most  popular  fictions,  have  had  some 
groundwork  in  fact.     During  the  wars  between  Moor 


158  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

and  Christian,  which  distracted  the  country  for  cen 
turies,  towns  and  castles  were  liable  frequently  and 
suddenly  to  change  owners  ;  and  the  inhabitants,  dur 
ing  sieges  and  assaults,  were  fain  to  bury  their  money 
and  jewels  in  the  earth,  or  hide  them  in  vaults  and 
wells,  as  is  often  done  at  the  present  day  in  the  des 
potic  and  belligerent  countries  of  the  East.  At  the 
time  of  the  expulsion  of  the  Moors,  also,  many  of  them 
concealed  their  most  precious  effects,  hoping  that  their 
exile  would  be  but  temporary,  and  that  they  would 
be  enabled  to  return  and  retrieve  their  treasures  at 
some  future  day.  It  is  certain  that,  from  time  to  time, 
hoards  of  gold  and  silver  coin  have  been  accidentally 
digged  up,  after  a  lapse  of  centuries,  from  among  the 
ruins  of  Moorish  fortresses  and  habitations,  and  it  re 
quires  but  a  few  facts  of  the  kind  to  give  birth  to  a 
thousand  fictions. 

The  stories  thus  originating  have  generally  some 
thing  of  an  oriental  tinge,  and  are  marked  with  that 
mixture  of  the  Arabic  and  Gothic  which  seems  to  me 
to  characterize  every  thing  in  Spain  ;  and  especially  in 
its  southern  provinces.  The  hidden  wealth  is  always 
laid  under  magic  spell,  and  secured  by  charm  and 
talisman.  Sometimes  it  is  guarded  by  uncouth  mon 
sters,  or  fiery  dragons  ;  sometimes  by  enchanted 
Moors,  who  sit  by  it  in  armour,  with  drawn  swords, 
but  motionless  as  statues,  maintaining  a  sleepless 
watch  for  ages. 

The  Alhambra,  of  course,  from  the  peculiar  circum 
stances  of  its  history,  is  a  strong  hold  for  popular  fic 
tions  of  the  kind,  and  curious  reliques,  dug  up  from 
time  to  time,  have  contributed  to  strengthen  them. 
At  one  time,  an  earthen  vessel  was  found,  containing 
Moorish  coins  and  the  skeleton  of  a  cock,  which,  ac 
cording  to  the  opinion  of  shrewd  inspectors,  must  have 
been  buried  alive.  At  another  time,  a  vessel  was 
digged  up,  containing  a  great  scarabneus,  or  beetle, 
of  baked  clay,  covered  with  Arabic  inscriptions,  which 
was  pronounced  a  prodigious  amulet  of  occult  virtues. 
Ixi  this  way  the  wits  of  the  ragged  brood  who  inhabit 


THE  MOOES  LEGACY.  159 

the  Alhambra  have  been  set  wool  gathering,  until  there 
is  not  a  hall,  or  tower,  or  vault,  of  the  old  fortress  that 
has  not  been  made  the  scene  of  some  marvellous  tra 
dition. 

I  have  already  given  brief  notices  of  some  related 
to  me  by  the  authentic  Mateo  Ximenes,  and  now  sub 
join  one  wrought  out  from  various  particulars  gath 
ered  among  the  gossips  of  the  fortress. 


LEGEND  OF  THE  MOOR'S  LEGACY. 


JUST  within  the  fortress  of  the  Alhambra,  in  front 
of  the  royal  palace,  is  a  broad  open  esplanade,  called 
,  the  place  or  square  of  the  cisterns,  (la  plaza  de  los 
algibes)  so  called  from  being  undermined  by  reser 
voirs  of  water,  hidden  from  sight,  and  which  have, 
existed  from  the  time  of  me  Moors.  At  one  cornei 
of  this  esplanade-is  a  Mcorish  well,  cut  through  the 
, living-  rock  to  a  great  depth,  the  water  of  which  is 
cold  as  ice  and  clear  as  crystal.  The  wells  made  by 
the  Moors  are  always  in  repute,  for  it  is  well  known 
what  pains  they  took  to  penetrate  to  tne  purest  and 
sweetest  springs  and  fountains.  The  one  we  are 
speaking  of  is  famous  throughout  Granada,  insomuch 
that  the  water-carriers,  some  bearing  great  water- 
jars  on  their  shoulders,  others  driving  jp^sses  before 
them,  laden  with  earthen  vessels,  are  ascending  and 
descending  the  steep  woody  avenues  of  the  Alham 
bra  from  early  dawn  until  a  late  hour  of  the  night. 

Fountains  and  wells,  ever  since  the  scriptural  clays, 
have  been  noted  gossiping  places  in  hot  climates, 
and  at  the  well  in  question  there  is  a  kind  of  per 
petual  club  kept  up  during  the  live-long  day,  by  the 
invalids,  old  women,  and  other  curious,  do-nothing 


160  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

folk  of  the  fortress,  who  sit  here  on  the  stone  benches 
under  an  awning  spread  over  the  well  to  shelter  the 
toll-gatherer  from  the  sun,  and  dawdle  over  the  gos 
sip  of  the  fortress,  and  question  any  water-carrier 
that  arrives,  about  the  news  of  the  city,  and  make 
long  comments  on  every  thing  they  hear  and  see. 
Not  an  hour  of  the  day  but  loitering  housewives  and 
idle  maid  -servants  may  be  seen,  lingering  with  pitcher 
on  head  or  in  hand,  to  hear  the  last  of  the  endless 
tattle  of  these  worthies. 

Among  the  water-carriers  who  once  resorted  to 
this  well  there  was  a  sturdy,  strong-backed,  bandy 
legged  little  fellow,  named  Pedro  Gil,  but  called 
Peregil  for  shortness.  Being  a  water-carrier,  he  was 
a  Gallego,  or  native  of  Gallicia,  of  course.  /Nature 
seems  to  have  formed  races  of  men  as  she1  has  of 
animals  for  different  kinds  of  drudgery.  In  France 
the  shoeblacks  are  all  Savoyards,  the  porters  of 
hotels  all  Swiss,  and  in  the  days  of  hoops  and  hair 
powder  in  England,  no  man  could  give  the  regular 
swing  to  a  sedan  chair  but  a  bog-trotting  Irishman. 
So  in  Spain  the  carriers  of  water  and  bearers  of 
burdens  are  all  sturdy  little  natives  of  Gallicia.  No 
man  says,  "get  me  a  porter,"  but,  "  call  a  Gallego." 
/  To  return  from  this  digression,  )  Peregil  the  Gal 
lego  had  begun  business  with  merely  a  great  earthen 
jar,  which  he  carried  upon  his  shoulder ;  by  degrees 
he  rose  in  the  world,  and  was  enabled  to  purchase 
an  assistant,  of  a  correspondent  class  of  animals, 
b^ing  a  stout  shaggy-haired  donkey.  On  each  side 
of  this  his  long-eared  aid-de-camp,  in  a  kind  of  pan 
nier,  were  slung  his  water-jars  covered  with  fig 
leaves  to  protect  them  from  the  sun.  There  was 
not  a  more  industrious  water-carrier  in  all  Granada, 
nor  one  more  merry  withal.  The  streets  rang  with 
his  cheerful  voice  as  he  trudged  after  his  donkey, 
singing  forth  the  usual  summer  note  that  resounds 
through  the  Spanish  towns  :  "  guien  qiiiere  agita-~> 


THE  MOOR'S  LEGACY.  101 

agita  mas  fria  que  la  nteve. — Who  wants  water — • 
water  colder  than  snow — who  wants,  water  from  the 
well  of  the  Alhambra — cold  as  ice  and  clear  as  crys 
tal  ?  "  When  he  served  a  customer  with  a  spark 
ling  glass,  it  was  always  with  a  pleasant  word  that 
caused  a  smile,  and  if,  perchance,  it  was  a  comely 
dame,  or  dimpling  damsel,  it  was  always  with  a  sly 
leer  and  a  compliment  to  her  beauty  that  was  irre 
sistible.  Thus  Peregil  the  Gallego  was  noted  through 
out  all  Granada  for  being  one  of  the  civilest,  pleas.'int- 
est,  and  happiest  of  mortals.  Yet  it  is  not  he  who 
sings  loudest  and  jokes  most  that  has  the  lightest 
heart.  ,  Under  all  this  air  of  merriment,  honest  Pere- 
~gil  had  his  cares  and  troubles.  He  had  a  large 
family  of  ragged  children  to  support,  who  were 
hungry  and  clamorous  as  a  nest  of  young  swallows, 
and  beset  him  with  their  outcries  for  food  whenever 
he  came  home  of  an  evening.  He  had  a  help-matt 
too,  who  was  any  thing  but  a  help  to  him.  She  had 
been  a  village  oeauty  before  marriage,  noted  for  her 
skill  in  dancing  the  beteto  and  rattling  the  castanets, 
and  she  still  retained  her  early  propensities,  spend 
ing  the  hard  earnings  of  honest  Peregil  in  frippery, 
and  laying  the  very  donkey  under  requisition  for 
junketting  parties  into  the  country  on  Sundays,  and 
saints'  clays,  and  those  innumerable  holyclays  which 
are  rather  more  numerous  in  Spain  than  the  days  of 
the  week.  With  all  this  she  was  a  little  of  a  slattern, 
something  more  of  a  lie-a-bed,  and,  above  all,  a  gos 
sip  i>f  the  first  water ;  neglecting  house,  household 
and  every  thing  else,  to  loiter  slip-shod  in  the  houses 
of  her  gossip  neighbours. 

i.  He.,  however,  who  tempers  the  wind  to  the  shorn 
lamb,  accommodates  the  yoke  of  matrimony  to  the 
submissive  neck.  /Peregil  bore  all  the  heavy  dispen 
sations  of  wife  and  children  with  as  meek  a  spirit  as 
his  donkey  bore  the  water-jars ;  and,  however  he 
might  shake  his  ears  in  private,  never  ventured  to 


162  THE  ALHAMBIIA. 

question  the  household  virtues  of  his  slattern  spouse. 

He  loved  his  children  too,  even  as  an  owl  loves  its 
owlets,  seeing  in  them  his  own  image  multiplied  and 
perpetuated,  for  they  were  a  sturdy,  long-backed, 
bandy-legged  little  brood.  The  great  pleasure  of 
honest  Peregil  was,  whenever  he  could  afford  him 
self  a  scanty  holyday  and  had  a  handful  of  marave- 
ilies  to  spare,  to  take  the  whole  litter  forth  with  him, 
some  in  his  arms,  some  tugging  at  his  skirts,  and 
some  trudging  at  his  heels,  and  to  treat  them  to  a 
irambol  among  the  orchards  of  the  Vega,  while  his 
v/ife  was  dancing  with  her  holyday  friends  in  the 
Angosturas  of  the  Darro. 

It  was  a  late  hour  one  summer  night,  and  most 
of  the  water-carriers  had  desisted  from  their  tr  :s. 
The  day  had  been  uncommonly  sultry;  the  nig'it 
was  one  of  those  delicious  moonlights,  which  tempt 
the  inhabitants  of  those  southern  climes  to  indemnify 
themselves  for  the  heat  and  inaction  of  the  day,  by 
.lingering  in  the  open  air  and  enjoying  its  tempered 
sweetness  until  after  midnight.  Customers  for 
v-ater  were  therefore  still  abroad.  Peregil,  like  a 
considerate,  painstaking  little  father,  thought  of  his 
iuingry  children.  "  One  more  journey  to  the  well," 
said  he  to  himself,  "  to  earn  a  good  Sunday's  puchero 
for  the  little  ones."  So  saying,  he  trudged  rapidly 
up  the  steep  avenue  of  the  Alhambra,  singing  as  he 
went,  and  now  and  then  bestowing  a  hearty  thwack 
with  a  cudgel  on  the  flanks  of  his  donkey,  either  by 
way  of  cadence  to  the  song,  or  refreshment  to  the 
animal ;  for  dry  blows  serve  in  lieu  for  provender  in 
Spain,  for  all  beasts  of  burden. 

When  arrived  at  the  well,  he  found  it  deserted  by 
every  one  except  a  solitary  stranger  in  Moorish  garb, 
seated  on  the  stone  bench  in  the  moonlight.  Pere 
gil  paused  at  first,  and  regarded  him  with  surprise, 
not  unmixed  with  awe,  but  the  Moor  feebly  beckoned 
him  to  approach* 


THE  MOORS  LEGACY.  103 

"  I  am  faint  and  ill,"  said  he  ;  "  aid  me  to  return 
to  the  city,  and  I  will  pay  thee  double  what  thou 
couldst  gain  by  thy  jars  of  water." 
/  The  honest  heart  of  the  little  water-carrier  was 
/;  touched  with  compassion  at  the  appeal  of  the 
'stranger.  "  Gocl  forbid,"  said  he,  "  that  I  should 
ask  fee  or  reward  for  doing  a  common  act  of  hu 
manity." 

He  accordingly  helped  the  Moor  on  his  donkey, 
and  set  off  slowly  for  Granada,  the  poor  Moslem 
being  so  weak  that  it  was  necessary  to  hold  him 
on  the  animal  to  keep  him  from  falling  to  the  earth. 

When  they  entered  the  city,  the  water-carrier  de 
manded  whither  he  should  conduct  him.  "  Alas  !  " 
said  the  Moor,  faintly,  "  I  have  neither  home  nor 
habitation.  I  am  a  stranger  in  the  land.  Suffer  me 
to  lay  my  head  this  night  beneath  thy  roof,  and  thou 
shall  be  amply  repaid." 

Honest  Pe:  ;gil  thus  saw  himself  unexpectedly 
saddled  with  an  intldel  guest,  but  he  was  too  hu* 
mane  to  refuse  a  night's  shelter  to  a  fellow  being  in 
so  forlorn  a  plight ;  so  he  conducted  the  Moor  to 
his  dwelling.  The  children,  who  had  sallied  forth, 
open-mouthed  as  usual,  on  hearing  the  tramp  of  the 
donkey,  ran  back  with  affright,  when  they  beheld 
the  turbaned  stranger,  and  hid  themselves  behind 
their  mother.  The  latter  stepped  forth  intrepidly, 
like  a  ruffling  hen  before  her  brood,  when  a  vagrant 
dog  approaches. 

"What  infidel  companion,"  cried  she,  "is  this 
you  have  brought  home  at  this  late  hour,  to  draw 
upon  us  the  eyes  of  the  Inquisition  ?  " 

"Be  quiet,  wife,"  replied  the  Gallego,  "here  is  a 
poor  sick  stranger,  without  friend  or  home :  wouldst 
thou  turn  him  forth  to  perish  in  the  streets  ?  " 

The  wife  would  still  have  remonstrated,  for, 
though  she  lived  in  a  hovel,  she  was  a  furious  stick 
ler  for  the  credit  of  her  house ;  the  little  water-car- 


104  THE  ALIIAMBEA, 

rier,  however,  for  once  was  stiff-necked,  and  refused 
to  bend  beneath  the  yoke.  He  assisted  the  poor 
Moslem  to  alight,  and  spread  a  mat  and  a  sheep 
skin  for  him,  on  the  ground,  in  the  coolest  part  of 
the  house;  being  the  only  kind  of  bed  that  his 
poverty  afforded. 

In  a  little  while  the  Moor  was  seized  with  violent 
convulsions,  which  defied  all  the  ministering  skill  of 
the  simple  water-carrier.  The  eye  of  the  poor  pa 
tient  acknowledged  his  kindness.  During  an  inter 
val  of  his  fits  he  called  him  to  his  side,  and  address 
ing  him  in  a  low  voice  ;/'  My  end,"  said  he,  "  I  fear 
is  at  hand.  If  I  die  I  Bequeath  you  this  box  as  a 
reward  for  your  charity."  So  saying,  he  opened  his 
albornoz,  or  cloak,  and  showed  a  small  box  of  sand  a.  I 
wood,  strapped  round  his  body. 

"  God  grant,  my  friend,"  replied  the  worthy  little 
Gallego,  "that  you  may  live  many  years  to  enjoy 
your  treasure,  whatever  it  may  be." 

The  Moor  shook  his  head  ;  he  laid  his  hand  upon 
the  box,  and  would  have  said  something  more  con 
cerning  it,  but  his  convulsions  returned  with  in 
creased  violence,  and  in  a  little  while  he  expired. 

The  water-carrier's  wife  was  now  as  one  dis 
tracted.  "  This  comes,"  said  she,  "  of  your  foolish 
good  nature,  always  running  into  scrapes  to  oblige 
others.  What  will  become  of  us  when  this  corpse 
is  found  in  our  house  ?  We  shall  be  sent  to  prison 
as  murderers ;  and  if  we  escape  with  our  lives,  shall 
be  ruined  by  notaries  and  alguazils." 

Poor  Peregil  was  in  equal  tribulation,  and  almost 
repented  himself  of  having  done  a  good  deed.  At 
length  a  thought  struck  him.  "It  is  not  yet  day,'' 
said  he.  "  I  can  convey  the  dead  body  out  of  the 
city  arid  bury  it  in  the  sands  on  the  banks  of  the 
Xenil..  No  one  saw  the  Moor  enter  our  dwelling, 
and  no  one  will  know  any  thing  of  his  death."  So 
said,  so  done.  The  wife  aided  him  :  they  rolled  the 


THE  MOORS  LEGACY.  165 

body  of  the  unfortunate  Moslem  in  the  mat  on  which 
he  had  expired,  laid  it  across  the  ass,  and  Mattias 
set  out  with  it  for  the  banks  of  the  river. 

As  ill  luck  would  have  it,  there  lived  opposite  to 
the  water-carrier  a  barber,  named  Pedrillo  Pedrugo, 
one  of  the  most  prying,  tattling,  mischief-making,  of 
his  gossip  tribe.  He  was  a  -weasel-faced,  spider 
legged  varlet,  supple  and  insinuating ;  the  famous 
Barber  of  Seville  could  not  surpass  him  for  his  uni 
versal  knowledge  of  the  affairs  of  others,  and  he  had 
no  more  power  of  retention  than  a  sieve.  It  was 
said  that  he  slept  with  but  one  eye  at  a  time,  and 
kept  one  ear  uncovered,  so  that,  even  in  his  sleep, 
he  might  see  and  hear  all  that  was  going  on.  Cer 
tain  it  is,  he  was  a  sort  of  scandalous  chronicle  for 
the  quidnuncs  of  Granada,  and  had  more  customers 
than  all  the  rest  of  his  fraternity. 

This  meddlesome  barber  heard  Peregil  arrive  at 
an  unusual  hour  of  night,  and  the  exclamations  of  his 
wife  and  children.  His  head  was  instantly  popped 
out  of  a  little  window  which  served  him  as  a  look 
out,  and  he  saw  his  neighbour  assist  a  man  in  a 
Moorish  garb  into  his  dwelling.  This  was  so  strange 
an  occurrence,  that  Pedrillo  Pedrugo  slept  not  a 
wink  that  night— every  five  minutes  he  was  at  his 
loop-hole,  watching  the  lights  that  gleamed  through 
the  chinks  of  his  neighbour's  door,  and  before  day 
light  he  beheld  Peregil  sally  forth  with  his  donkey 
unusually  laden. 

The  inquisitive  barber  was  in  a  fidget ;  he  slipped 
on  his  clothes,  and,  stealing  forth  silently,  followed 
the  water-carrier  at  a  distance,  until  he  saw  him  dig 
a  hole  in  the  sandy  bank  of  the  Xenil,  and  bury 
something  that  had  the  appearance  of  a  dead  body. 

The.  barber  hied  him  home  and  fidgeted  about 
his  shop,  setting  every  thing  upside  down,  until  sun 
rise.  He  then  took  a  basin  under  his  arm,  and 
sallied  forth  to  the  house  of  his  daily  customer,  the 
Alcalde. 


160  THE  ALUAMBRA. 

The  Alcalde  was  just  risen,,  Pedrillo  Pedrugo 
seated  him  in  a  chair,  threw  a  napkin  round  his 
neck,  put  a  basin  of  hot  water  under  his  chin,  and 
began  to  mollify  his  beard  with  his  fingers. 

"  Strange  doings,"  said  Pedrugo,  who  played  bar 
ber  and  newsmonger  at  the  same  time.  "  Strange 
doings  !  Robbery,  and  murder,  and  burial,  all  in 
one  night  !  " 

"Hey?  how!  What  is  it  you  say?"  cried  the 
Alcalde. 

"  I  say,"  replied  the  barber,  rubbing  a  piece  of 
soap  over  the  nose  and  mouth  of  the  dignitary,  for 
a  Spanish  barber  disdains  to  employ  a  brush  ;  "  I 
say  that  Peregil  the  Gallego  has  robbed  and  mur 
dered  a  Moorish  Mussulman,  and  buried  him  this 
blessed  night, — maldita  sea  la  noche, — accursed  be 
the  night  for  the  same  !  " 

"  But  how  do  you  know  all  this  ?  "  demanded  the 
Alcalde. 

"  Be  patient,  Senor,  and  you  shall  hear  all  about 
it/'  replied  Pedrillo,  taking  him  by  the  nose  and 
sliding  a  razor  over  his  cheek.  He  then  recounted 
all  that  he  had  seen,  going  through  both  operations 
at  the  same  time,  shaving  his  beard,  washing  his 
chin,  and  wiping  him  dry  with  a  dirty  napkin,  while 
he  was  robbing,  murdering,  and  bury  ing  the  Moslem. 

Now  it  so  happened  that  this  Alcalde  was  one  of 
the  most  overbearing,  and  at  the  same  time  most 
griping  and  corrupt  curmudgeons  in  all  Granada.  It 
could  not  be  denied,  however,  that  he  set  a  high  val 
ue  upon  justice,  for  he  sold  it  at  its  weight  in  gold. 
He  presumed  the  case  in  point  to  be  one  of  murder 
and  robbery ;  doubtless  there  must  be  ri-  h  spoil ; 
how  was  it  to  be  secured  into  the  legitimate  hands 
of  the  law  ?  for  as  to  merely  entrapping  the  delin 
quent — that  would  be  feeding  the  gallows  :  but  en 
trapping  the  booty — that  would  be  enriching  the 
judge ;  and  such,  according  to  his  creed,  was  the 


THE  MOORS  LEGACY.  167 

great  end  ot  justice.  So  thinking,  he  summoned  to 
his  presence  his  trustiest  alguazil ;  a  gaunt,  hungry- 
looking  varlet,  clad,  according  to  the  custom  of  his 
order,  in  the  ancient  Spanish  garb — a  broad  black 
beaver,  turned  up  at  the  sides  ;  a  quaint  ruff,  a  small 
black  cloak  dangling  from  his  shoulders  ;  rusty  black 
under-clothes  that  set  off  his  spare  wiry  form  ;  while 
in  his  hand  he  bore  a  slender  white  wand,  the  dread 
ed  insignia  of  his  office.  Such  was  the  legal  blood 
hound  of  the  ancient  Spanish  breed,  that  he  put  upon 
the  traces  of  the  unlucky  water-carrier  ;  and  such  was 
his  speed  and  certainty  that  he  was  upon  the  haunches 
of  poor  Peregil  before  he  had  returned  to  his  dwell 
ing,  and  brought  both  him  and  his  donkey  before  the 
dispenser  of  justice. 

The  Alcalde  bent  upon  him  one  of  his  m  ost  ter 
rific  frowns.  "Hark  ye,  culprit,"  roared  he  in  a 
voice  that  made  the  knees  of  the  little  Gallego  smite 
together, — "  Hark  ye,  culprit !  there  is  no  need  of 
denying  thy  guilt :  every  thing  is  known  to  me.  A 
gallows  is  the  proper  reward  for  the  crime  thou  hast 
committed,  but  I  am  merciful,  and  readily  listen  to 
reason.  The  man  that  has  been  murdered  in  th> 
house  was  a  Moor,  an  infidel,  the  enemy  of  our  faith. 
It  was  doubtless  in  a  fit  of  religious  zeal  that  thou 
hast  slain  him.  I  will  be  indulgent,  therefore ;  ren 
der  up  the  property  of  which  thou  hast  robbed  him, 
and  we  will  hush  the  matter  up." 

The  poor  water-carrier  called  upon  all  the  saints 
to  witness  his  innocence  ;  alas  !  not  one  of  them  ap 
peared,  and  if  there  had,  the  Alcalde  would  have  dis 
believed  the  whole  kalendar.  The  water-carrier 
related  the  whole  story  of  the  dying  Moor  with  the 
straightforward  simplicity  of  truth,  but  it  was  all  in 
vain  :  "  Wilt  thou  persist  in  saying,"  demanded  the 
judge,  "  that  this  Moslem  had  neither  gold  nor  jew 
els,  which  were  the  object  of  thy  cupidity  ?  " 

"  As  I  hope  to  be  saved,  your  worship,"  replied 


168  THE  ALHAMB1U. 

the  water-carrier,  "  he  had  nothing  but  a  small  box 
of  sandal  wood,  which  he  bequeathed  to  me  in  re 
ward  of  my  services." 

"A  box  of  sandal  wood  !  a  box  of  sandal  wood  !  " 
exclaimed  the  Alcalde,  his  eyes  sparkling  at  the  idea 
of  precious  jewels,  "  and  where  is  this  box?  where 
have  you  concealed  it  ?  " 

"  An'it  please  your  grace,"  replied  the  water- 
carrier,  "  it  is  in  one  of  the  panniers  of  my  mule,  and 
heartily  at  the  service  of  your  worship." 

He  had  hardly  spoken  the  words  when  the  keen 
alguazil  darted  off  and  reappeared  in  an  instant  with 
the  mysterious  box  of  sandal  wood.  The  Alcalde 
opened  it  with  an  eager  and  trembling  hand  ;  all 
pressed  forward  to  gaze  upon  the  treasures  it  was 
expected  to  contain  ;  when,  to  their  disappointment, 
nothing  appeared  within  but  a  parchment  scroll, 
covered  with  Arabic  characters,  and  an  end  of  a 
waxen  taper  ! 

When  there  is  nothing  to  be  gained  by  the  con 
viction  of  a  prisoner,  justice,  even  in  Spain,  is  apt  to 
be  impartial.  The  Alcalde,  having  recovered  from 
his  disappointment  and  found  there  was  really  no 
booty  in  the  case,  now  listened  dispassionately  to  the 
explanation  of  the  water-carrier,  which  was  corrob 
orated  by  the  testimony  of  his  wife.  Being  con 
vinced,  therefore,  of  his  innocence,  he  discharged  him 
from  arrest ;  nay  more,  he  permitted  him  to  carry 
off  the  Moor's  legacy,  the  box  of  sandal  wood  and 
its  contents,  as  the  well-merited  reward  of  his  hu 
manity  ;  but  he  retained  his  donkey  in  payment  of 
cost  and  charges. 

Behold  the  unfortunate  little  Gallego  reduced 
once  more  to  the  necessity  of  being  his  own  water- 
carrier,  and  trudging  up  to  the  well  of  the  Alhambra 
with  a  great  earthen  jar  upon  his  shoulder.  As  he 
to.'led  up  the  hill  in  the  heat  of  a  summer  noon  his 
usual  good-humour  forsook  him.  "  Dog  of  an  Al- 


THE  MOORS  LEGACY.  109 

ralcle  !"  would  he  cry,  "to  rob  a  poor  man  of  the 
means  of  his  subsistence — of  the  best  friend  he  had 
in  the  world  !  "  And  then  at  the  remembrance  of 
the  beloved  companion  of  his  labours  all  the  kind 
ness  of  his  nature  would  break  forth.  "  Ah  donkey 
of  my  heart !  "  would  he  exclaim,  resting  his  burden 
on  a  stone,  and  wiping  the  sweat  from  his  brow, 
"  Ah  donkey  of  my  heart !  I  warrant  me  thou  think- 
est  of  thy  old  master  !  I  warrant  me  thou  missest  the 
water  jars  : — poor  beast !  " 

To  add  to  his  afflictions  his  wife  received  him,  on 
his  return  home,  with  whimperings  and  repinings  ; 
she  had  clearly  the  vantage-ground  of  him,  having 
warned  him  not  to  commit  the  egregious  act  of  hos 
pitality  that  had  brought  on  him  all  these  misfor 
tunes,  and  like  a  knowing  woman,  she  took  every 
occasion  to  throw  her  superior  sagacity  in  his  teeth. 
If  ever  her  children  lacked  food,  or  needed  a  new 
garment,  she  would  answer  with  a  sneer,  "  Go  to 
your  father ;  he's  heir  to  king  Chico  of  the  Alham- 
bra.  Ask  him  to  help  you  out  of  the  Moor's  strong 
box." 

Was  ever  poor  mortal  more  soundly  punished,  for 
hfiving  done  a  good  action  !  The  unlucky  Peregil 
was  grieved  in  flesh  and  spirit,  but  still  he  bore 
meekly  with  the  railings  of  his  spouse.  At  length 
one  evening,  when,  after  a  hot  clay's  toil,  she  taunted 
him  in  the  usual  manner,  he  lost  all  patience.  He 
did  not  venture  to  retort  upon  her,  but  his  eye  rested 
upon  the  box  of  sandal  wood,  which  lay  on  «.  shelf 
with  lid  half  open,  as  if  laughing  in  mockery  of  his 
vexation.  Seizing  it  up  he  dashed  it  with  indigna 
tion  on  the  floor.  "  Unlucky  was  the  day  that  I  ever 
set  eyes  on  thee,"  he  cried,  "or  sheltered  thy  rnaste 
beneath  my  roof." 

As  the  box  struck  the  floor  the  lid  flew  wide  open, 
and  the  parchment  scroll  rolled  forth.  Peregil  sat 
regarding  the  scroll  for  some  time  in  moody  silence. 


170  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

At  length  rallying  his  ideas,  "  Who  knows,"  thought 
he,  "  but  this  writing  may  be  of  some  importance,  as 
the  Moor  seems  to  have  guarded  it  with  such  care." 
Picking  it  up,  therefore,  he  put  it  in  his  bosom,  and 
the  next  morning,  as  he  was  crying  water  through 
the  streets,  he  stopped  at  the  shop  of  a  Moor,  a  na 
tive  of  Tangiers,  who  sold  trinkets  and  perfumery  in 
the  Zacatin,  and  asked  him  to  explain  the  contents. 
The  Moor  read  the  scroll  attentively,  then  stroked 
his  beard  and  smiled.  "  This  manuscript,"  said  he, 
"  is  a  form  of  incantation  for  the  recovery  of  hidden 
treasure,  that  is  under  the  power  of  enchantment. 
It  is  said  to  have  such  virtue  that  the  strongest  bolts 
and  bars,  nay  the  adamantine  rock  itself  will  yield 
before  it." 

"  Bah  !  "  cried  the  little  Gallego,  "what  is  all  that 
to  me.  I  am  no  enchanter,  and  know  nothing  of 
buried  treasure."  So  saying  he  shouldered  his  water- 
jar,  left  the  scroll  in  the  hands  of  the  Moor,  and 
trudged  forward  on  his  daily  rounds. 

That  evening,  however,  as  he  rested  himself  about 
twilight  at  the  well  of  the  Alhambra,  he  found  a 
number  of  gossips  assembled  at  the  place,  and  their 
conversation,  as  is  not  unusual  at  that  shadowy 
hour,  turned  upon  old  tales  and  traditions  of  a  su 
n-natural  nature.  Being  all  poor  as  rats,  they 
d  ,velt  with  peculiar  fondness  upon  the  popular  theme 
of  enchanted  riches  left  by  the  Moors  in  various 
parts  of  the  Alhambra.  Above  all,  they  concurred 
in  the  belief  that  there  were  great  treasures  buried 
deep  in  the  earth  under  the  tower  of  the  Seven 
Floors. 

These  stories  made  an  unusual  impression  on  the 
.  iind  of  honest  Peregil,  and  they  sank  deeper  and 
deeper  into  his  thoughts  as  he  returned  alone  down 
the  darkling  avenues.  "  If,  after  all,  there  should  be 
treasure  hid  beneath  that  tower — and  if  the  scroll  I 
left  with  the  Moor  should  enable  me  to  get  at  it  !  " 


THE  MOORS  LEGACY.  171 

Tn  ihc  sudden  ecstasy  of  the  thought  he  had  well 
high  let  fall  his  water  jar. 

That  night  he  tumbled  and  tossed,  and  could 
scarcely  get  a  wink  of  sleep  for  the  thoughts  that 
were  bewildering  his  brain.  In  the  morning,  bright 
and  early,  he  repaired  to  the  shop  of  the  Moor,  and 
told  him  all  that  was  passing  in  his  mind.  "  You 
can  read  Arabic,"  said  he,  "suppose  we  go  together 
to  the  tower  and  try  the  effect  of  the  charm  ;  if  it 
fails  we  are  no  worse  off  than  before,  but  if  it  suc 
ceeds  we  will  share  equally  all  the  treasure  we  may 
discover." 

"Hold,"  replied  the  Moslem,  "this  writing  is  not 
sufficient  of  itself;  it  must  be  read  at  midnight,  by 
the  light  of  a  taper  singularly  compounded  and  pre 
pared,  the  ingredients  of  which  are  not  within  my 
reach.  Without  such  taper  the  scroll  is  of  no  avail." 

"  Say  no  more  !  "  cried  the  little  Gallego.  "  I 
have  such  a  taper  at  hand  and  will  bring  it  here  in  a 
moment."  So  saying  he  hastened  home,  and  soon 
returned  with  the  end  of  a  yellow  wax  taper  that  he 
had  found  in  the  box  of  sandal  wood. 

The  Moor  felt  it,  and  smelt  to  it.  "  Here  are  rare 
and  costly  perfumes,"  said  he,  "  combined  with  this 
yellow  wax.  This  is  the  kind  of  taper  specified  in  the 
scroll.  While  this  burns,  the  strongest  walls  and 
most  secret  caverns  will  remain  open  ;  woe  to  him, 
however,  who  lingers  within  until  it  be  extinguished 
He  will  remain  enchanted  with  the  treasure." 

It  was  now  agreed  between  them  to  try  the  charm 
that  very  night.  At  a  late  hour,  therefore,  when 
nothing  was  stirring  but  bats  and  owls,  they  ascend 
ed  the  woody  hill  of  the  Alhambra,  and  approached 
that  awful  tower,  shrouded  by  trees  and  rendered 
formidable  by  so  many  traditionary  tales. 

By  the  light  of  a  lantern,  they  groped  their  way 
through  bushes,  and  over  fallen  stones,  to  the  door 
of  a  vault  beneath  the  tower.  With  fear  and  trem- 


172  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

bling  they  descended  a  flight  of  steps  cut  into  the 
rock.  It  led  to  an  empty  chamber,  damp  and  drear, 
from  which  another  flight  of  steps  led  to  a  deeper 
•  ilt.  In  this  way  they  descended  four  several 
flights,  leading  into  as  many  vaults,  one  below  the 
other,  but  the  floor  of  the  fourth  was  solid,  and 
though,  according  to  tradition,  there  remained  three 
vaults  still  below,  it  was  said  to  be  impossible  to 
penetrate  further,  the  residue  being  shut  up  by 
sli'ing  enchantment.  The  air  of  this  vault  was 
clamp  and  chilly,  and  had  an  earthy  smell,  and  the 
light  scarce  cast  forth  any  rays.  They  paused  here 
for  a  time  in  breathless  suspense,  until  they  faintly 
heard  the  clock  of  the  watch  tower  strike  midnight ; 
upon  this  they  lit  the  waxen  taper,  which  diffused 
an  odour  of  myrrh,  and  frankincense,  and  storax. 

The  Moor  began  to  read  in  a  hurried  voice.  He 
had  scarce  finished,  when  there  was  a  noise  as  of 
subterraneous  thunder.  The  earth  shook,  and  the 
floor  yawning  open  disclosed  a  flight  of  steps. 
Trembling  with  awe  they  descended,  and  by  the 
light  of  the  lantern  found  themselves  in  another 
vault,  covered  with  Arabic  inscriptions.  In  the 
centre  stood  a  great  chest,  secured  with  seven  bands 
of  steel,  at  each  end  of  which  sat  an  enchanted 
Moor  in  armour,  but  motionless  as  a  statue,  being 
controlled  by  the  power  of  the  incantation.  Before 
the  chest  were  several  jars  filled  with  gold  and  silver 
and  precious  stones.  In  the  largest  of  these  they 
thrust  their  arms  up  to  the  elbow,  and  at  every  dip 
hauled  forth  hands-full  of  broad  yellow  pieces  of 
Moorish  gold,  or  bracelets  and  ornaments  of  the 
same  precious  metal,  while  occasionally  a  necklace 
of  oriental  pearl  would  stick  to  their  fingers.  Still 
they  trembled  and  breathed  short  while  cramming 
their  pockets  with  the  spoils  ;  and  cast  many  a  fear- 
it  glance  at  the  two  enchanted  Moors,  who  sat 
grim  and  motionless,  glaring  upon  them  with  un- 


THE  MOORS  LEGACY.  173 

winking  eyes.  At  length,  struck  with  a  sudden  panic 
at  some  fancied  noise,  they  both  rushed  up  the  stair 
case,  tumbled  over  one  another  into  the  upper  apart 
ment,  overturned  and  extinguished  the  waxen  taper, 
and  the  pavement  again  closed  with  a  thundering 
sound. 

Filled  with  dismay,  they  did  not  pause  until  they 
had  groped  their  way  out  of  the  tower,  and  beheld 
the  stars  shining  through  the  trees.  Then  seating 
themselves  upon  the  grass,  they  divided  the  spoil, 
determining  to  content  themselves  for  the  present 
with  this  mere  skimming  of  the  jars,  but  to  return 
on  some  future  night  and  drain  them  to  the  bottom. 
To  make  sure  of  each  other's  good  faith,  also,  they 
divided  the  talismans  between  them,  one  retaining 
the  scroll  and  the  other  the  taper ;  this  done,  they 
set  off  with  light  hearts  and  well  lined  pockets  for 
Granada. 

As  they  wended  their  way  down  the  hill,  the 
shrewd  Moor  whispered  a  word  of  counsel  in  the 
sar  of  the  simple  little  water-carrier. 

"  Friend  Peregil,"  said  he,  "  all  this  affair  must  be 
kept  a  profound  secret  until  we  have  secured  the 
treasure  and  conveyed  it  out  of  harm's  way.  If  a 
whisper  of  it  gets  to  the  ear  of  the  Alcalde  we  are 
uudone ! " 

"  Certainly  !  "  replied  the  Gallego  ;  "  nothing  can 
be  more  true." 

"  Friend  Peregil,"  said  the  Moor,  "  you  are  a  dis 
creet  man,  and  I  make  no  doubt  can  keep  a  secret ; 
but — you  have  a  wife — " 

"  She  shall  not  know  a  word  of  it !  "  replied  the 
little  water-carrier  sturdily. 

"Enough,"  said  the  Moor,  "  I  depend  upon  thy 
discretion  and  thy  promise." 

Never  was  promise  more  positive  and  sincere ; 
but  alas  !  what  man  can  keep  a  secret  from  his  wife  ? 
Certainly  not  such  a  one  as  Peregil  the  water-car- 


174  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

rier,  who  was  one  of  the  most  loving  and  tractable 
of  husbands.  On  his  return  home  he  found  his  wife 
moping  in  a  corner. 

"  Mighty  well !  "  cried  she,  as  he  entered  ;  "  you've 
come  at  last ;  after  rambling  about  until  this  hour  of 
the  night.  I  wonder  you  have  not  brought  home 
another  Moor  as  a  housemate."  Then  bursting  into 
tears  she  began  to  wring  her  hands  and  smite  her 
breast,  "  Unhappy  woman  that  I  am  !  "  exclaimed 
she,  "  what  will  become  of  me  !  My  house  stripped 
and  plundered  by  lawyers  and  alguazils  ;  my  hus 
band  a  do-no-good  that  no  longer  brings  home  bread 
for  his  family,  but  goes  rambling  about,  day  and 
night,  with  infidel  Moors.  Oh,  my  children  !  my 
children  !  what  will  become  of  us  ;  we  shall  all  have 
to  beg  in  the  streets  !  " 

Honest  Peregil  was  so  moved  by  the  distress  of 
his  spouse,  that  he  could  not  help  whimpering  also. 
His  heart  was  as  full  as  his  pocket,  and  not  to  be 
restrained.  Thrusting  his  hand  into  the  latter  he 
hauled  forth  three  or  four  broad  gold  pieces  and 
slipped  them  into  her  bosom.  The  poor  woman 
stared  with  astonishment,  and  could  not  understand 
the  meaning  of  this  golden  shower.  Before  she 
could  recover  her  surprise,  the  little  Gallego  drew 
forth  a  chain  of  gold  and  dangled  it  before  her, 
capering  with  exultation,  his  mouth  distended  from 
ear  to  ear. 

"  Holy  Virgin  protect  us  ! "  exclaimed  the  wife. 
"  What  hast  thou  been  doing,  Peregil  ?  Surely  thou 
hast  not  been  committing  murder  and  robbery ! '' 

The  idea  scarce  entered  the  brain  of  the  poor 
woman  than  it  became  a  certainty  with  her.  She 
saw  a  prison  and  a  gallows  in  the  distance,  and 
a  little  bandy-legged  Gallego  dangling  pendant 
from  it ;  and,  overcome  by  the  horrors  conjured  up 
by  her  imagination,  fell  into  violent  hysterics. 

What  could  the  poor  man  do  ?     He  had  no  other 


THE  MOOR'S  LEGACY.  175 

nuans  ol  pacifying1  his  wife  and  dispelling  the 
phantoms  of  her  fancy,  than  by  relating  the  whole 
story  of  his  good  fortune.  This,  however,  he  did 
not  do  until  he  had  exacted  from  her  the  most 
solemn  promise  to  keep  it  a  profound  secret  from 
every  living  being. 

To  describe  her  joy  would  be  impossible.  She 
flung  her  arms  round  the  neck  of  her  husband,  and 
almost  strangled  him  with  her  caresses.  "Now, 
wife  1 "  exclaimed  the  little  man  with  honest  exulta 
tion,  '  what  say  you  now  to  the  Moor's  legacy? 
Henceforth  never  abuse  r.ie  pr  helping  a  fellovi 
creature  in  distress." 

The  honest  Gallego  retired  to  his  sheepskin  mat, 
and  slept  as  soundly  as  if  on  a  bed  of  down.  Not 
so  his  wife. — She  emptied  the  whole  contents  of  his 
pockets  upon  the  mat,  and  sat  all  night  counting 
gold  pieces  of  Arabic  coin,  trying  on  necklaces  and 
ear-rings,  and  fancying  the  figure  she  should  one  day 
make  when  permitted  to  enjoy  her  riches. 

On  the  following  morning  the  honest  Gallego  took 
a  broad  golden  coin,  and  repaired  with  it  to  a  jewel 
ler's  shop  in  the  Zacatin  to  offer  it  for  sale ;  pretend 
ing  to  have  found  it  among  the  ruins  of  the  Alharn- 
bra.  The  jeweller  saw  that  it  had  an  Arabic 
inscription  and  was  of  the  purest  gold ;  he  offered, 
however,  but  a  third  of  its  value,  with  which  the 
water-carrier  was  perfectly  content.  Peregil  now 
bought  new  clothes  for  his  little  flock,  and  all  kinds 
of  toys,  together  with  ample  provisions  for  a  hearty 
meal,  and  returning  to  his  dwelling  set  all  his 
children  dancing  around  him,  while  he  capered  in 
the  midst,  the  happiest  of  fathers. 

The  wife  of  the  water-carrier  kept  her  promise 
of  secrecy  with  surprising  strictness.  For  a  whole 
day  and  a  half  she  went  about  with  a  look  of  mys 
tery  and  a  heart  swelling  almost  to  bursting,  yet  she 
held  her  peace,  though  surrounded  by  her  gossips. 


170  THE  ALHAMEEA. 

It  is  true  she  could  not  help  giving  herself  a  few 
airs,  apologized  for  her  ragged  dress,  and  talked  of 
ordering  a  new  basquina  all  trimmed  with  gold  lace 
and  bugles,  and  a  new  lace  mantilla.  She  threw 
out  hints  of  her  husband's  intention  of  leaving  oft 
his  trade  of  water-carrying,  as  it  did  not  altogether 
agree  with  his  health.  In  fact  she  thought  they 
should  all  retire  to  the  country  for  the  summer,  that 
the  children  might  have  the  benefit  of  the  mountain 
air,  for  there  was  no  living  in  the  city  in  this  sultry 
season. 

The  neighbours  stared  at  each  other,  and  thought 
the  poor  woman  had  lost  her  wits,  and  her  airs  and 
graces  and  elegant  pretensions  were  the  theme  of 
universal  scoffing  and  merriment  among  her  friends, 
the  moment  her  back  was  turned. 

If  she  restrained  herself  abroad,  however,  she 
indemnified  herself  at  home,  and,  putting  a  string 
of  rich  oriental  pearls  round  her  neck,  Moorisn 
bracelets  on  her  arms ;  an  aigrette  of  diamonds  on 
her  head,  sailed  backwards  and  forwards  in  her 
slattern  rags  about  the  room,  now  and  then  stopping 
to  admire  herself  in  a  piece  of  broken  mirror.  Nay, 
in  the  impulse  of  her  simple  vanity,  she  could  not 
resist  on  one  occasion  showing  herself  at  the 
window,  to  enjoy  the  effect  of  her  finery  on  the 
passers  by. 

As  the  fates  would  have  it,  Pedrillo  Pedrugo,  the 
meddlesome  barber,  was  at  this  moment  sitting  idly 
in  his  shop  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  when 
his  ever  watchful  eye  caught  the  sparkle  of  a  diamond. 
In  an  instant  he  was  nt  his  loop-hole,  reconnoitring 
the  slattern  spouse  of  the  water-carrier,  decorated 
with  the  splendour  of  an  eastern  bride.  No  sooner 
had  he  taken  an  accurate  inventory  of  her  ornaments 
than  he  posted  off  with  all  speed  to  the  Alcalde.  In 
a  little  while  the  hungry  alguazil  was  again  on  the 
scent,  and  before  the  day  was  over,  the  unfortunate 


THE  MOORS  LEGACY.  <  177 

Peregil  was  again  dragged  into  the  presence  of  the 
judge. 

"  How  is  this,  villain  ! "  cried  the  Alcalde  in  a 
furious  voice.  "  You  told  me  that  the  infidel  who 
died  in  your  house  left  nothing  behind  but  an  empty 
coffer,  and  now  I  hear  of  your  wife  flaunting  in  her 
rags  decked  out  with  pearls  and  diamonds.  Wretch 
that  thou  art !  prepare  to  render  up  the  spoils  of  thy 
miserable  victim,  and  to  swing  on  the  gallcws  that 
is  already  tired  of  waiting  for  thee." 

The  terrified  water-carrier  fell  on  his  knees,  and 
made  a  full  relation  of  the  marvellous  manner  in 
which  he  had  gained  his  wealth.  The  Alcalde,  the 
alguazil,  and  the  inquisitive  barber  listened  with 
greedy  ears  to  this  Arabian  tale  of  enchanted 
treasure.  The  alguazil  was  despatched  to  bring 
the  Moor  who  had  assisted  in  the  incantation. 
The  Moslem  entered  half  frightened  out  of  his  wits 
at  finding  himself  in  the  hands  of  the  harpies  of  the 
law.  When  he  beheld  the  water-carrier  standing 
with  sheepish  look  and  downcast  countenance,  he 
comprehended  the  whole  matter.  "  Miserable  ani 
mal,"  said  he,  as  he  passed  near  him,  "did  I  not 
warn  thee  against  Dabbling  to  thy  wife?  " 

The  story  of -the  Moor  coincided  exactly  with  that 
of  his  colleague  ;  but  the  Alcalde  afifected'to  be  slow 
of  belief,  and  threw  out  menaces  of  imprisonment 
and  rigorous  investigation. 

"  Softly,  good  Senor  Alcalde,"  said  the  Mussul 
man,  who  by  this  time  had  recovered  his  usual 
shrewdness  and  self-possession.  "  Let  us  not  mar 
fortune's  favours  in  the  scramble  for  them.  Nobody 
knows  any  thing  of  this  matter  but  ourselves  ;  let  us 
keep  the  secret.  There  is  wealth  enough  in  the  cave 
to  enrich  us  all.  Promise  a  fair  division,  and  all 
shall  be  produced  ;  refuse,  and  the  cave  shall  remain 
lor  ever  closed.1' 

The  Alcalde  consumed    apart  with   the   alguazil. 


178  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

The  latter  was  an  old  iox  in  his  profession.  "  Prom 
ise  any  thing,"  said  he,  "  until  you  get  possession  of 
the  treasure.  You  may  then  seize  upon  the  whole, 
and  if  he  and  his  accomplice  dare  to  murmur, 
threaten  them  with  the  faggot  and  the  stake  as  in 
fidels  and  sorcerers." 

The  Alcalde  relished  the  advice.  Smoothing  his 
brow  and  turning  to  the  Moor, — "  This  is  a  strange 
story,"  said  he,  "and  may  be  true,  but  I  must  have 
ocular  proof  of  it.  This  very  night  you  must  repeat 
the  incantation  in  my  presence.  If  there  be  really 
such  treasure,  we  will  share  it  amicably  between  us, 
and  say  nothing  further  of  the  matter  ;  if  ye  have 
deceived  me,  expect  no  mercy  at  my  hands.  In  the 
mean  time  you  must  remain  in  custody." 

The  Moor  and  the  water-carrier  cheerfully  agreed 
to  these  conditions,  satisfied  that  the  event  would 
prove  the  truth  of  their  words. 

Towards  midnight  the  Alcalde  sallied  forth  se 
cretly,  attended  by  the  alguazil  and  the  meddlesome 
barber,  all  strongly  armed.  They  conducted  the 
Moor  and  the  water-carrier  as  prisoners,  and  were 
provided  with  the  stout  donkey  of  the  latter,  to  bear 
off  the  expected  treasure.  They  arrived  at  the  tower 
without  being  observed,  and  tying  the  donkey  to  a 
fig-tree,  descended  into  the  fourth  vault  of  the 
tower. 

The  scroll  was  produced,  the  yellow  waxen  taper 
lighted,  and  the  Moor  read  the  form  of  incantation. 
The  earth  trembled  as  before,  and  the  pavement 
opened  with  a  thundering  sound,  disclosing  the 
narrow  flight  of  steps.  The  Alcalde,  the  alguazil, 
and  the  barber  were  struck  aghast,  and  could  not 
summon  courage  to  descend.  The  Moor  and  the 
water-carrier  entered  the  lower  vault  and  found  the 
two  Moors  seated  as  before,  silent  and  motionless. 
They  removed  two  of  the  great  jars,  filled  with 
golden  coin  and  precious  stones.  The  water-carrier 


THE  MOORS  LEGACY.  170 

bore  them  up  one  by  one  upon  his  shoulders,  but 
though  a  strong-backed  little  man,  and  accustomed 
to  carry  burdens,  he  staggered  beneath  their  weight, 
and  fouiid,  when  slung  on  each  side  of  his  donkey, 
they  were  as  much  as  the  animal  could  bear. 

"Let  us  be  content  for  the  present,"  said  the 
Moor  ;  "  here  is  as  much  treasure  as  we  can  carry 
off  without  being  perceived,  and  enough  to  make  us 
ail  wealthy  to  our  heart's  desire." 

"  Is  there  more  treasure  remaining  thind  ?  "  de 
manded  the  Alcalde. 

"The  greatest  prize  of  all,"  said  tie  Moor  ;  "a 
huge  coffer,  bound  with  bands  of  steel,  and  filled 
with  pearls  and  precious  stones." 

"  Let  us  have  up  the  coffer  by  all  means,"  cried  the 
grasping  Alcalde. 

"  I  will  descend  for  no  more,"  said  the  Moor,  dog 
gedly.  "  Enough  is  enough  for  a  reasonable  man ; 
more  is  superfluous." 

"And  I,"  said  the  water-carrier,  "will  bring  up 
no  further  burthen  to  break  the  back  of  my  poor 
donkey." 

Finding  commands,  threats,  and  entreaties  equally 
vain,  the  Alcalde  turned  to  his  two  adherents.  "  Aid 
me,"  said  he,  "  to  bring  up  the  coffer,  and  its  con 
tents  shall  be  divided  between  us."  So  saying  he 
descended  the  steps,  followed,  with  trembling  re 
luctance,  by  the  alguazil  and  the  barber. 

No  sooner  did  the  Moor  behold  them  fairly  earthed 
than  he  extinguished  the  yellow  taper:  the  pave 
ment  closed  with  its  usual  crash,  and  the  three 
worthies  remained  buried  in  its  womb. 

He  then  hastened  up  the  different  flights  of  steps, 
nor  stopped  until  in  the  open  air.  The  little  water- 
carrier  followed  him  as  fast  as  his  short  legs  would 
permit. 

"What  hast  thou  done?  "  cried  Peregil,  as  soon 
as  he  could  recover  breath.  "  The  Alcalde  and  the 
other  two  are  shut  up  in  the  vault !  " 


180  THE  ALHAMI3RA. 

"  It  is  the  will  of  Allah !  "  said  the  Moor,  de 
voutly. 

"And  will  you  not  release  them  ?  "  demanded  the 
Gal  lego. 

"  Allah  forbid  !  "  replied  the  Moor,  smoothing  his 
beard.  "  It  is  written  in  the  book  of  fate  that  they 
shall  remain  enchanted  until  some  future  adventurer 
shall  come  to  break  the  charm.  The  will  of  God  be 
done  !  "  So  saying  he  hurled  the  end  of  the  waxen 
taper  far  among  the  gloomy  thickets  of  the  glen. 

There  was  now  no  remedy  ;  so  the  Moor  and  the 
water-carrier  proceeded  with  the  richly-laden  donkey 
towards  the  city  :  nor  could  honest  Peregil  refrain 
from  hugging  and  kissing  his  long-eared  fellow- 
labourer,  thus  restored  to  him  from  the  clutches  of 
the  law ;  and,  in  fact,  it  is  doubtful  which  gave  the 
simple-hearted  little  man  most  joy  at  the  moment, 
the  gaining  of  the  treasure  or  the  recovery  of  the 
donkey. 

The  two  partners  in  good  luck  divided  their  spoil 
amicably  and  fairly,  excepting  that  the  Moor,  who 
had  a  little  taste  for  trinketry,  made  out  to  get  into 
his  heap  the  most  of  the  pearls  and  precious  stones, 
and  other  baubles,  but  then  he  always  gave  the 
water-carrier  in  lieu  magnificent  jewels  of  massy 

fold  four  times  the  size,  with  which  the  latter  was 
eartily  content.  They  took  care  not  to  linger  within 
reach  of  accidents,  but  made  off  to  enjoy  their  wealth 
undisturbed  in  other  countries.  The  Moor  returned 
into  Africa,  to  his  native  city  of  Tetuan,  and  the 
Gallego,  with  his  wife,  his  children  and  his  donkey, 
made  the  best  of  his  way  to  Portugal.  Here,  under 
the  admonition  and  tuition  of  his  wife,  he  became  a 
personage  of  some  consequence,  for  she  made  Ihe 
little  man  array  his  long  body  and  short  legs  in 
doublet  and  hose,  with  a  feather  in  his  hat  and  a 
sword  by  his  side  ;  and,  laying  aside  the  familiar 
appellation  of  Peregil,  assume  the  more  sonorous 


THE  MOORS  LEGACY.  181 

title  of  Don  Pedro  Gil.  His  progeny  grew  up  a 
thriving  and  merry-hearted,  though  short  and  bandy 
legged  generation  ;  while  the  Senora  Gil,  be-fringed, 
be-laced,  and  be-tasselled  from  her  head  to  her  heels, 
with  glittering  rings  on  every  finger,  became  a  model 
of  slattern  fashion  and  finery. 

As  to  the  Alcalde,  and  his  adjuncts,  they  re- 
mained  shut  up  under  the  great  tower  of  the 
Seven  Floors,  and  there  they  remain  spell-bound 
at  the  present  day.  Whenever  there  shall  be  a  lack 
in  Spain  of  pimping  barbers,  sharking  alguazils,  and 
corrupt  Alcaldes,  they  may  be  sought  after;  but 
if  they  have  to  wait  until  such  time  for  their  deliver 
ance,  there  is  danger/Of  their  enchantment  enduring 
until  doomsday.  7/ 


VISITORS 
TO   THE  ALHAMBRA. 

IT  is  now  nearly  three  months  since  I  took  up 
my  abode  in  the  Alhambra,  during  which  time 
the  progress  of  the  season  has  wrought  many 
changes.  When  I  first  arrived  every  thing  was 
in  the  freshness  of  May ;  the  foliage  of  the  trees 
was  still  tender  and  transparent;  the  pomegran 
ate  had  not  yet  shed  its  brilliant  crimson  blos 
soms  ;  the  orchards  of  the  Xenil  and  the  Darro 
were  in  full  bloom  ;  the  rocks  were  hung  with  wild 
flowers,  and  Granada  seemed  completely  surrounded 
by  a  wilderness  of  roses,  among  which  innumerable 
nightingales  sang,  not  merely  in  the  night,  but  all 
day  long. 

The  advance  of  summer  has  withered  the  rose 
and  silenced  the  nightingale,  and  the  distant  coun 
try  begins  to  look  parched  and  sunburnt ;  though 
a  "perennial  verdure  reigns  immediately  round  the 
city,  and  in  the  deep  narrow  valleys  at  the  foot  of 
the  snow-capped  mountains. 

The  Alhambra  possesses  retreats  graduated  to 
the  heat  of  the  weather,  among  which  the  most 
peculiar  is  the  almost  subterranean  apartment  of 
the  baths.  This  still  retains  its  ancient  oriental 
character,  though  stamped  with  the  touching  traces 
of  decline.  At  the  entrance,  opening  into  a  small 
court  formerly  adorned  with  flowers,  is  a  hall, 
moderate  in  size,  but  light  and  graceful  in  archi 
tecture.  It  is  overlooked  by  a  small  gallery  sup- 


VISITORS  TO  THE  ALHAMBRA.        183 

ported  by  marble  pillars  and  moresco  arches.  An 
alabaster  fountain  in  the  centre  of  the  pavement  still 
throws  up  a  jet  of  water  to  cool  the  place.  On  each 
side  are  deep  alcoves  with  raised  platforms,  where 
the  bathers  after  their  ablutions  reclined  on  luxuri 
ous  cushions,  soothed  to  voluptuous  repose  by  the 
fragrance  of  the  perfumed  air  and  the  notes  of  soft 
music  from  the  gallery.  Beyond  this  hall  are  the  in 
terior  chambers,  still  more  private  and  retired, 
where  no  light  is  admitted  but  through  small  aper 
tures  in  the  vaulted  ceilings.  Here  was  the  sanc 
tum  sanctorum  of  female  privacy,  where  the  beauties 
of  the  harem  indulged  in  the  luxury  of  the  baths. 
A  soft  mysterious  light  reigns  through  the  place, 
the  broken  baths  are  still  there,  and  traces  of  ancient 
elegance. 

The  prevailing  silence  and  obscurity  have  made 
this  a  favourite  resort  of  bats,  who  nestle  during  the 
day  in  the  dark  nooks  and  corners,  and,  on  being 
disturbed,  flit  mysteriously  about  the  twilight  cham 
bers,  heightening  in  an  indescribable  degree  their 
air  of  desertion  and  decay. 

In  this  cool  and  elegant  though  dilapidated  re 
treat,  which  has  the  freshness  and  seclusion  of  a 
grotto,  I  have  of  late  passed  the  sultry  hours  of  the 
day;  emerging  toward  sunset,  and  bathing,  or 
rather  swimming,  at  night  in  the  great  reservoir  of 
the  main  court.  In  this  way  I  have  been  enabled  in 
a  measure  to  counteract  the  relaxing  and  enervating 
in'.-.uence  of  the  climate. 

My  dream  of  absolute  sovereignty,  however,  is  at 
an  end  :  I  was  roused  from  it  lately  by  the  report  of 
fire-arms,  which  reverberated  among  the  towers  .is  il 
the  castle  had  been  taken  by  surprise.  On  sall\  ing 
forth  I  found  an  old  cavalier  with  a  number  of 
domestics  in  possession  of  the  hall  of  ambassadors. 
He  was  an  ancient  Count,  who  had  come  up  from 
his  palace  in  Granada  to  pass  a  short  time  in  the  Al- 


384  THE  ALHAMBRA 

hambra  for  the  benefit  of  purer  air,  and  who,  being 
a  veteran  and  inveterate  sportsman,  was  endeavour 
ing  to  get  an  appetite  for  his  breakfast  by  shooting 
at  swallows  from  the  balconies.  It  was  a  harmless 
amusement,  for  though,  by  the  alertness  of  his 
attendants  in  loading  his  pieces,  he  was  enabled  to 
keep  up  a  brisk  fire,  I  could  not  accuse  him  of  the 
death  of  a  single  swallow.  Nay,  the  birds  them 
selves  seemed  to  enjoy  the  sport,  and  to  deride  his 
want  of  skill,  skimming  in  circles  close  to  the 
balconies,  and  twittering  as  they  darted  by. 

The  arrival  of  this  old  gentleman  has  in  some 
measure  changed  the  aspect  of  affairs,  but  has  like 
wise  afforded  matter  for  agreeable  speculation.  We 
have  tacitly  shared  the  empire  between  us,  like 
the  last  kings  of  Granada,  excepting  that  we  main 
tain  a  most  amicable  alliance.  He  reigns  absolute 
over  the  Court  of  the  Lions  and  its  adjacent  halls, 
while  I  maintain  peaceful  possession  of  the  region  of 
the  baths  and  the  little  garden  of  Lindaraxa.  We 
take  our  meals  together  under  the  arcades  of  the 
court,  where  the  fountains  cool  the  air,  and  bub 
bling  rills  run  along  the  channels  of  the  marble 
pavement. 

i  In  the  evening,  a  domestic  circle  gathers  about 
the  worthy  old  cavalier.  The  countess  comes  up 
from  the  city,  with  a  favourite  daughter  about 
sixteen  years  of  age.  Then  there  are  the  official  de 
pendents  of  the  Count,  his  chaplain,  his  lawyer,  his 
secretary,  his  steward,  and  other  officers  and  agents 
of  his  extensive  possessions.  Thus  he  holds  a  kind 
of  domestic  court,  where  every  person  seeks  to  con 
tribute  to  his  amusement,  without  sacrificing  his 
own  pleasure  or  self-respect.  In  fact,  whatever  may 
be  said  of  Spanish  pride?  it  certainly  does  not  enter 
into  social  or  domestic  life.  Among  no  people  are 
the  relations  between  kindred  more  cordial,  or  be 
tween  superior  and  dependent  more  Irunk  and  ge- 


VISITORS  TO  THE  ALHAMBRA.        185 

nial ;  in  these  respects  there  still  remains,  in  the 
provincial  life  of  Spain,  much  of  the  vaunted  simpli 
city  of  the  olden  times. 

The  most  interesting  member  of  this  family  group, 
however,  is  the  daughter  of  the  Count,  the  charm 
ing  though  almost  infantile  little  Carmen.  Her 
form  has  not  yet  attained  its  maturity,  but  has  al 
ready  the  exquisite  symmetry  and  pliant  grace  so 
prevalent  in  this  country.  Her  blue  eyes,  fair  com 
plexion,  and  light  hair  are  unusual  in  Andalusia,  and 
give  a  mildness  and  gentleness  to  her  demeanour,  in 
contrast  to  the  usual  fire  of  Spanish  beauty,  but  in 
perfect  unison  with  the  guileless  and  confiding  inno 
cence  of  her  manners.  She  has,  however,  all  the 
innate  aptness  and  versatility  of  her  fascinating 
country-women,  and  sings,  dances,  and  plays  the 
guitar  and  other  instruments  to  admiration.  A  few 
days  after  taking  up  his  residence  in  the  Alhambra, 
the  Count  gave  a  domestic  fete  on  his  saint's  day, 
assembling  round  him  the  members  of  his  family 
and  household,  while  several  old  servants  came  from 
his  distant  possessions  to  pay  their  reverence  to  him, 
and  partake  of  the  good  cheer. 

This  patriarchal  spirit  which  characterized  the 
Spanish  nobility  in  the  days  of  their  opulence  has 
declined  with  their  fortunes  ;  but  some  who,  like  the 
Count,  still  retain  their  ancient  family  possessions, 
keep  up  a  little  of  the  ancient  system,  and  have  their 
estates  overrun  and  almost  eaten  up  by  generations 
of  idle  retainers.xN  According  to  this  magnificent  old 
Spanish  system,  in  which  the  national  pride  and 
generosity  bore  equal  parts,  a  superannuated  serv 
ant  was  never  turned  off,  but  became  a  charge  for 
the  rest  of  his  days ;  nay,  his  children,  and  his  chil 
dren's  children,  and  often  their  relations,  to  the  right 
and  left,  became  gradually  entailed  upon  the  family. 
1  Icnce  the  huge  palaces  of  the  Spanish  nobility, 
which  have  such  an  air  of  empty  ostentation  from 


186  THE  ALUAMBRA. 

the  greatness  of  their  size  compared  with  the  medi 
ocrity  and  scantiness  of  their  furniture,  were  abso 
lutely  required  in  the  golden  days  of  Spain  by  the 
patriarchal  habits  of  their  possessors.  They  were 
little  better  than  vast  barracks  for  the  hereditary 
generations  of  hangers-on  that  battened  at  the  ex 
pense  of  a  Spanish  noble.  The  worthy  Count,  who 
nas  estates  in  various  parts  of  the  kingdom,  assures 
me  that  some  of  them  barely  feed  the  hordes  of  de 
pendents  nestled  upon  them ;  who  consider  them 
selves  entitled  to  be  maintained  upon  the  place,  rent 
free,  because  their  forefathers  have  been  so  for  gen 
erations. 

The  domestic  fete  of  the  Count  broke  in  upon  the 
usual  still  life  of  the  Alhambra.  Music  and  laugh 
ter  resounded  through  its  late  silent  halls;  there 
were  groups  of  the  guests  amusing  themselves  about 
the  galleries  and  gardens,  and  officious  servants  from 
town  hurrying  through  the  courts,  bearing  viands  to 
the  ancient  kitchen,  which  was  again  alive  with  the 
tread  of  cooks  and  scullions,  and  blazed  with  un 
wonted  fires. 

The  feast,  for  a  Spanish  set  dinner  is  literally  a 
feast,  was  laid  in  the  beautiful  moresco  hall  called 
"la  sala  de  las  dos  Hermanas,"  (the  saloon  of  the 
two  sisters ; )  the  table  groaned  with  abundance, 
and  a  joyous  conviviality  prevailed  round  the 
board  }.v  for  though  the  Spaniards  are  generally  an 
abstemious  people,  they  are  complete  revellers  at  a 
banquet,  v 

For  my  own  part,  there  was  something  peculiarly 
interesting  in  thus  sitting  at  a  feast,  in  the  royal  halls 
of  the  Alhambra,  given  by  the  representative  of  one 
of  its  most  renowned  conquerors ;  for  the  venerable 
Count,  though  unwarlike  himself,  is  the  lineal  de 
scendant  and  representative  of  the  "  Great  Captain," 
the  illustrious  Gonsalvo  of  Cordova,  whose  sword 
he  guards  in  the  archives  of  his  palace  at  Granada. 


VISITORS  TO  THE  ALIIAMBRAi       187 

The  banquet  ended,  the  company  adjourned  to  the 
hall  of  ambassadors.  Here  every  one  contributed 
to  the  general  amusement  by  exerting  some  peculiar 
talent ;  singing,  improvising,  telling  wonderful  tales, 
or  dancing  to  that  all-pervading  talisman  of  Spanish 
pleasure,  the  guitar. 

The  life  and  charm  of  the  whole  assemblage,  how 
ever,  was  the  gifted  little  Carmen.  She  took  her 
part  in  two  or  three  scenes  from  Spanish  comedies, 
exhibiting  a  charming  dramatic  talent ;  she  gave 
imitations  of  the  popular  Italian  singers,  with  singu 
lar  and  whimsical  felicity,  and  a  rare  quality  of 
voice ;  she  imitated  the  dialects,  dances,  and  bal 
lads  of  the  gipsies  and  the  neighbouring  peasantry, 
but  did  every  thing  with  a  facility,  a  neatness,  a 
grace,  and  an  all-pervading  prettiness,  that  were 
perfectly  fascinating.  The  great  charm  of  her  per 
formances,  however,  was  their  being  free  from  all 
pretension  or  ambition  of  display.  She  seemed  un 
conscious  of  the  extent  of  her  own  talents,  and  in 
fact  is  accustomed  only  to  exert  them  casually,  like  a 
child,  for  the  amusement  of  the  domestic  circle. 
Her  observation  and  tact  must  be  remarkably  quick, 
for  her  life  is  passed  in  the  bosom  of  her  family,  and 
she  can  only  have  had  casual  and  transient  glances 
at  the  various  characters  and  traits,  brought  out  im 
promptu  in  moments  of  domestic  hilarity,  like  the 
one  in  question.  It  is  pleasing  to  see  the  fondness 
and  admiration  with  which  every  one  of  the  house 
hold  regards  her :  she  is  never  spoken  of,  even  by 
the  domestics,  by  any  other  appellation  than  that  of 
La  Nina,  "  the  child,"  an  appellation  which  thus 
applied  has  something  peculiarly  kind  and  endearing 
in  the  Spanish  language. 

Never  shall  I  think  of  the  Alhambra  without  re 
membering  the  lovely  little  Carmen  sporting  in  happy 
and  innocent  girlhood  in  its  marble  halls;  dancing  to 
the  sound  of  the  Moorish  castanets,  or  mingling  the 


188  THE  ALHAMBLA. 

silver  warbling  of  her  voice  with  the  music  of  the 
fountains. 

On  this  festive  occasion  several  curious  and  amus 
ing  legends  and  traditions  were  told  ;  many  of  which 
have  escaped  my  memory ;  but  of  those  that  most 
struck  me,  I  will  endeavour  to  shape  forth  some  en 
tertainment  for  the  reader. 


LEGEND  OF  PRINCE 
AHMED    AL    KAMEL; 

''Or  The  Pilgrim  of  Love." 

THERE  was  once  a  Moorish  King  of  Granada  who 
had  but  one  son,  whom  he  named  Ahmed,  to  which 
hMfccourtiers  added  the  surname  of  al  Kamel,  or  the 
perfect,  from  the  indubitable  signs  of  super-excel 
lence  which  they  perceived  in  him  in  his  very  infancy. 
The  astrologers  countenanced  them  in  their  fore 
sight,  predicting  every  thing  in  his  favour  that  could 
make  a  perfect  prince  and  a  prosperous  sovereign. 
One  cloud  only  rested  upon  his  destiny,  and  even 
that  was  of  a  roseate  hue.  He  would  be  of  an 
amorous  temperament,  and  run  great  perils  from  the 
tender  passion.  If,  however,  he  could  be  kept  from 
the  allurements  of  love  until  of  mature  age,  these 
dangers  would  be  averted,  and  his  life  thereafter  be 
one  uninterrupted  course  of  felicity. 

To  prevent  all  danger  of  the  kind,  the  king  wisely 
determined  to  rear  the  prince  in  a  seclusion,  where 
he  should  never  see  a  female  face  nor  hear  even  the 
name  of  love.  For  this  purpose  he  built  a  beautiful 
palace  on  the  brow  of  a  hill  above  the  Alhambra,  in 
the  midst  of  delightful  gardens,  but  surrounded  by 
lofty  walls  ;  being,  in  fact,  the  same  palace  known  at 
the  present  day  by  the  name  of  the  Generaliffe.  In 
this  palace  the  youthful  prince  was  shut  up  and  en 
trusted  to  the  guardianship  and  instruction  of  Ebon 
Bonabbon,  one  of  the  wisest  and  dryest  of  Arabian 
sages,  who  had  passed  the  greatest  part  of  his  life  in 
Egypt,  studying  hieroglyphics  and  making  researches 


190  THE  ALIIAMBRA. 

among  the  tombs  and  pyramids,  and  who  saw  more 
charms  in  an  Egyptian  mummy  than  in  the  most 
tempting  of  living  beauties.  The  sage  was  ordered 
to  instruct  the  prince  in  all  kinds  of  knowledge  but 
one — he  is  to  be  kept  utterly  ignorant  of  love — "  use 
every  precaution  for  the  purpose  you  may  think 
proper,"  said  the  king,  "but  remember,  oh  Ebon 
Bonabbon,  if  my  son  learns  aught  of  that  forbidden 
knowledge,  while  under  your  care,  your  head  shall 
answer  for  it."  A  withered  smile  came  over  the  dry 
visage  of  the  wise  Bonabbon  at  the  menace.  "  Let 
your  majesty's  heart  be  as  easy  about  yorr  son  as 
mine  is  about  my  head.  Am  I  a  man  likely  to  give 
lessons  in  the  idle  passion  ?  " 

Under  the  vigilant  care  of  the  philosopher,  the 
prince  grew  up  in  the  seclusion  of  the  palace  and  its 
gardens.  He  had  black  slaves  to  attend  upon  him 
— hideous  mutes,  who  knew  nothing  of  love,  or  if 
they  did,  had  not  words  to  communicate  it.  Hia 
mental  endowments  were  the  peculiar  care  of  Ebon 
Bonabbon,  who  sought  to  initiate  him  into  the  ar> 
struseMore  of  Egypt,  but  in  this  the  prince  made  little 
progress,  and  it  was  soon  evident  that  he  had  no 
turn  for  philosophy. 

He  was,  however,  amazingly  ductile  for  a  youthful 

Ermce  ;  ready  to  follow  any  advice  and  always  guided 
y  the  last  councillor.  He  suppressed  his  yawns, 
and  listened  patiently  to  the  long  and  learned  dis 
courses  of  Ebon  Bonabbon,  from  which  he  imbibed 
a  smattering  of  various  kinds  of  knowledge,  and  thus 
happily  attained  his  twentieth  year,  a  miracle  of 
princely  wisdom,  but  totally  ignorant  of  love. 

About  this  time,  however,  a  change  came  over  the 
conduct  of  the  prince.  He  completely  abandoned 
his  studies  and  took  to  strolling  about  the  gardens 
and  musing  by  the  side  of  the  fountains.  He  had 
been  taught  a  little  music  among  his  various  accom 
plishments  ;  it  now  engrossed  a  great  ^"* 


THE  P1LOU1M  OF  LO  VE.  191 

i  ime,  and  a  turn  for  poetry  became  apparent.  The  sage 
'Kbon  Bonabbon  took  the  alarm,  and  endeavoured 
to  work  these  idle  humours  out  of  him  by  a  severe 
course  of  algebra ;  but  the  prince  turned  from  it-with 
distaste.  "  I  cannot  endure  algebra,"  said  he  ;  "  it 
is  an  abomination  to  me.  I  want  something  that 
speaks  more  to  the  heart." 

The  sage  Ebon  Bonabbon  shook  his  dry  head  at 
the  words.  "  Here's  an  end  to  philosophy,"  thought 
he.  "  The  prince  has  discovered  he  has  a  heart !  " 
He  now  kept  anxious  watch  upon  his  pupil,  and  saw 
that  the  latent  tenderness  of  his  nature  was  in  activ 
ity,  and  only  wanted  an  object.  He  wandered  about 
the  gardens  of  the  Generaliffe  in  an  intoxication  of 
feelings  of  which  he  knew  not  the  cause.  Sometimes 
he  would  sit  plunged  in  a  delicious  reverie  ;  then  he 
would  seize  his  lute  and  draw  from  it  the  most 
touching  notes,  and  then  throw  it  aside,  and  break 
forth  into  sighs  and  ejaculations. 

By  degrees  this  loving  disposition  began  to  extend 
to  inanimate  objects;  he  had  his  favourite  flowers 
which  he  cherished  with  tender  assiduity ;  then  he 
became  attached  to  various  trees,  and  there  was  one 
in  particular,  of  a  graceful  form  and  drooping  foliage, 
on  which  he  lavished  his  amorous  devotion,  carving 
his  name  on  its  bark,  hanging  garlands  on  its 
branches,  and  singing  couplets  in  its  praise,  to  the 
accompaniment  of  his  lute. 

The  sage  Ebon  Bonabbon  was  alarmed  at  this  ex 
cited  state  of  Jiis  pupil.  He  saw  him  on  the  very 
brink  of  forbidden  knowledge — the  least  hint  might 
reveal  to  him  the  fatal  secret.  Trembling  for  the 
safety  of  the  prince,  and  the  security  of  his  own  head, 
he  hastened  to  draw  him  from  the  seductions  of  the 
garden,  and  shut  him  up  in  the  highest  tower  of  the 
Generalise.  It  contained  beautiful  apartments,  and 
commanded  an  almost  boundless  prospect,  but  v.ras 
eievp.ted  far  above  that  atmosphere  of  sweets  and 


192 

those  witching 
of  the  too  susci 

What  was  tc 

to  this,  restraini  ana  to  Deguiie  the  tedious  hours  f 
He  had  exhausted  almost  all  kinds  of  agreeable 
knowledge  ;  and  algebra  was  not  to  be  mentioned. 
Fortunately  Ebon  Bonabbon  had  been  instructed, 
when  in  Egypt,  in  the  languag-e  of  birds,  by  a  Jewish 
Rabbin,  who  had  received  it  in  lineal  transmission 
from  Solomon  the  wise,  who  had  been  taught  it  by 
the  Queen  of  Sheba.  At  the  very  mention  of  such  a 
study  the  eyes  of  the  prince  sparkled  with  animation, 
and  he  applied  himself  to  it  with  such  avidity,  that 
he  soon  became  as  great  an  adept  as  his  master. 

The  tower  of  the  Generaliffe  was  no  longer  a  soli 
tude  ;  he  had  companions  at  hand  with  whom  he 
could  converse.  The  first  acquaintance  he  formed 
was  with  a  hawk  who  built  his  nest  in  a  crevice  of 
the  lofty  battlements,  from  whence  he  soared  far  &T.d 
wide  in  quest  of  prey.  The  prince,  however,  found 
little  to  like  or  esteem  in  him.  He  was  a  mere 
pirate  of  the  air,  swaggering  and  boastful,  whose 
talk  was  all  about  rapine,  and  carnage,  and  desperate 
exploits. 

His  next  acquaintance  was  an  owl,  a  mighty  wise- 
looking  bird,  with  a  large  head  and  staring  eyes, 
who  sat  blinking  and  goggling  all  day  in  a  hole  in 
the  wall,  but  roamed  forth  at  night.  He  had  great 
pretensions  to  wisdom  ;  talked  something  of  astrology 
and  the  moon,  and  hinted  at  the  dark  sciences,  but 
he  was  grievously  given  to  metaphysics,  and  the 
prince  found  his  prosings  were  more  ponderous  than 
those  of  the  sage  Ebon  Bonabbon. 

Then  there  was  a  bat,  that  hung  all  day  by  his 
heels  in  the  dark  corner  of  a  vault,  but  sallied  out  in 
a  slip-shod  style  at  twilight.  He,  however,  had  but 
twilight  ideas  on  all  subjects,  derided  things  of  which 
he  had  taken  but  an  imperfect  view,  and  seemed  to 
take  delight  in  nothing. 


THE  PILGRIM  OF  LOVE.  193 

Beside  these  there  was  a  swallow,  witft  whom  tne 
prince  was  at  first  much  taken.  He  was  a  smart 
talker,  but  restless,  bustling,  and  for  ever  on  the 
wing;  seldom  remaining  long  enough  for  any  con 
tinued  conversation.  He  turned  out  in  the  end  to 
be  a  mere  smatterer,  who  did  but  skim  over  the  sur 
face  of  things,  pretending  to  know  every  thing,  but 
knowing  nothing  thoroughly. 

These  were  the  only  feathered  associates  with 
whom  the  prince  had  any  opportunity  of  exercising 
his  newly  acquired  language ;  the  tower  was  too 
high  for  any  other  birds  to  frequent  it.  He  soon 
grew  weary  of  his  new  acquaintances,  whose  conver 
sation  spake  so  little  to  the  head  and  nothing  to  the 
heart ;  and  gradually  relapsed  into  his  loneliness. 
A  winter  passed  away,  spring  opened  with  all  its 
bloom,  and  verdure,  and  breathing  sweetness,  and 
the  happy  time  arrived  for  birds  to  pair  and  build 
their  nests.  Suddenly,  as  it  were,  a  universal  burst 
of  song  and  melody  broke  forth  from  the  groves  and 
gardens  of  the  Generaliffe,  and  reached  the  prince  in 
the  solitude  of  his  tower.  From  every  side  he  heard 
the  same  universal  theme  —  love  —  love  —  love  — 
chaunted  forth  and  responded  to  in  every  variety  of 
note  and  tone.  The  prince  listened  in  silence  and 
perplexity.  "  What  can  be  this  love,"  thought  he, 
"of  which  the  world  seems  so  full,  and  of  which  I 
know  nothing?  "  He  applied  for  information  to  his 
friend  the  hawk.  The  ruffian  bird  answered  in  a 
tone  of  scorn, — "  You  must  apply,''  said  he,  "  to  the 
vulgar,  peaceable  birds  of  earth,  who  are  made  for 
the  prey  of  us  princes  of  the  air.  My  trade  is  war, 
and  righting  my  delight.  In  a  word,  1  am  a  warrior, 
and  know  nothing  of  this  thing  called  love." 

The  prince  turned  from  him  with  disgust,  and 
sought  the  owl  in  his  retreat.  "This  is  a  bird," 
said  he,  "  of  peaceful  habits,  and  may  be  able  to 
solve  my  question."  So  he  asked  the  owl  to  tell  him 


114  TH&  ALHAMBEA. 

what  was  this  love  about  which  all  the  birds  in  the 
groves  below  were  singing. 

Upon  this  the  -owl  put  on  a^Iook  <5T  offended  dig 
nity.  "  My  nights,"  said  he,  "  are  taken  up  in  study 
and  research,  and  my  days  in  ruminating  in  my  ceV 
upon  all  that  I  have  learnt.  As  to  these  singing 
birds  of  whom  you  talk,  1  never  listen  to  them.  I, 
despise  them  and  their  themes.  Allah  be  praised,  I 
cannot  sing.  In  a  word,  I  am  a  philosopher,  and 
know  nothing  of  this  thing  called  love." 

The  prince  now  repaired  to  the  vault  where  his 
friend  the  bat  was  hanging  by  the  heels,  and  pio- 
pounded  the  same  question.  The  bat  wrinkled  up 
his  nose  into  a  most  snappish  expression.  "  Why  do 
you  disturb  me  in  my  morning's  nap  with  such  an 
idie  question,"  said  he  peevishly.  "  I  only  fly  by 
twilight  when  all  birds  are  asleep,  and  never  trouble 
myself  with  their  concerns.  I  am  neither  bird  noi 
beast,  and  I  thank  heaven  for  it.  I  have  found  out 
the  villainy  of  the  whole  of  them,  and  hate  them,  one 
and  all.  In  a  word,  I  am  a  misanthrope,  and  know 
nothing  of  this  thing  called  love." 

As  a  last  resort,  the  prince  now  sought  the  swal 
low,  and  stopped  him  just  as  he  was  circling  about 
the  summit  of  the  tower.  The  swallow  as  usual  was 
in  a  prodigious  hurry,  and  had  scarce  time  to  make  a 
reply.  "  Upon  my  word,"  said  he,  "  I  have  so  much 
public  business  to  attend  to,  and  so  many  pursuits 
to  follow,  that  I  have  had  no  time  to  think  on  the 
subject.  I  have  every  clay  a  thousand  visits  to  pay  ; 
a  thousand  affairs  of  importance  to  examine  into, 
that  leave  me  not  a  moment  of  leisure  for  these  little 
sing-song  matters.  In  a  word,  I  am  a  citizen  of  the 
world.  I  know  nothing  of  this  thing  called  love." 
So  saying,  the  swallow  dived  into  the  valley  and  was 
out  of  sight  in  a  moment. 

The  prince  remained  disappointed  and  perplexed, 
but  with  his  curiosity  still  more  piqued  by  the  diili- 


THE  PILGRIM  OF  LOVE.  195 

culty  of  gratifying  it.  While  in  this  mood  his  ancient 
guardian  entered  the  tower.  The  prince  advanced 
eagerly  to  meet  him.  "  Oh  sage  Ebon  Bonabbon," 
cried  he,  "  thou  hast  revealed  to  me  much  of  the 
wisdom  of  the  earth,  but  there  is  one  thing  of  which 
I  remain  in  utter  ignorance,  and  would  fain  be  in 
formed." 

"  My  prince  has  but  to  make  the  inquiry,  and 
every  thing  within  the  limited  range  of  his  servant's 
intellect  is  at  his  command." 

"  Tell  me  then,  oh  most  profound  of  sages,  what 
is  the  nature  of  this  thing  called  love  ?  " 

The  sage  Ebon  Bonabbon  was  struck  as  with  a 
thunderbolt.  He  trembled  and  turned  pale,  and  felt 
as  if  his  head  sat  but  loosely  on  his  shoulders. 

"  What  could  suggest  such  a  question  to  my 
prince  ?  —  where  could  he  have  learnt  so  idle  a 
word  ?  " 

The  prince  led  him  to  the  window  of  the  tower. 
"  Listen,  oh  Ebon  Lonabbon  !  "  said  he.  The  sage 
listened.  The  nightingale  sat  in  a  thicket  below  the 
tower  singing  to  his  paramour,  the  rose ;  from  every 
blossomed  spray  and  tufted  grove  arose  a  strain  of 
melody,  and  love— love— love,  was  still  the  unvary 
ing  theme.  "Allah  Achbar !  God  is  great !  "  ex 
claimed  the  wise  Bonabbon.  "  Who  shall  pretend 
to  keep  this  secret  from  the  hearts  of  men  when  even 
the  birds  of  the  air  conspire  to  betray  it  ?  " 

Then  turning  to  Ahmed,  "  Oh  my  prince,"  cried 
he,  "  shut  thine  ears  to  these  seductive  strains. 
Close  thy  mind  against  this  dangerous  knowledge. 
Know  that  this  love  is  the  cause  of  half  the  ills  of 
wretched  mortality.  It  is  this  which  produces  bit- 
ternesb  of  strife  between  brethren  and  friends  ;  which 
causes  treacherous  murder  and  desolating  war.  Care 
and  sorrow,  weary  days  and  sleepless  nights,  are  its 
attendants.  It  withers  the  bloom  and  blights  the 
joys  of  youth,  and  brings  on  the  ills  and  griefs  of 


196  Till 

premature  old  age.  i  _  ,  ..v  ^...ce, 

in  total  ignorance  of  this  thing  called  love  ! '" 

The  sage  Ebon  Bonabbon  hastily  retired,  leaving 
the  prince  plunged  in  still  deeper  perplexity.  It  was 
in  vain  he  attempted  to  dismiss  the  subject  from  his 
mind;  it  still  continued  uppermost  in  his  thoughts, 
?,nd  teased  and  exhausted  him  with  vain  conjectures. 
"  Surely,"  said  he  to  himself  as  he  listened  to  the 
tuneful  strains  of  the  birds,  "  there  is  no  sorrow  in 
those  notes :  every  thing  seems  tenderness  and  joy. 
If  love  be  a  cause  of  such  wretchedness  and  strife, 
why  are  not  these  birds  drooping  in  solitude,  or  tear 
ing  each  other  in  pieces,  instead  of  fluttering  cheer 
fully  about  the  groves,  or  sporting  with  each  other 
among  the  flowers?  " 

He  lay  one  morning  on  his  couch  meditating  on 
this  inexplicable  matter.  The  window  of  his  cham 
ber  was  open  to  admit  the  soft  morning  breeze  which 
came  laden  with  the  perfume  of  orange  blossoms 
from  the  valley  of  the  Darro.  The  voice  of  the 
nightingale  was  faintly  heard,  still  chanting  the 
wonted  theme.  As  the  prince  was  listening  and 
sighing,  there  was  a  sudden  rushing  noise  in  the  air; 
a  beautiful  dove,  pursued  by  a  hawk,  darted  in  at  the 
window  and  fell  panting  on  the  floor ;  while  the  pur 
suer,  balked  of  his  prey,  soared  off  to  the  mountains. 

The  prince  took  up  the  gasping  bird,  smoothed 
its  feathers,  and  nestled  it  in  his  bosom.  When  he 
had  soothed  it  by  his  caresses  he  put  it  in  a  golden 
cage,  and  offered  it,  with  his  own  hands,  the  whitest 
and  finest  of  wheat  and  the  purest  of  water.  The  bird, 
however,  refused  food,  and  sat  drooping  and  pining, 
and  uttering  piteous  moans. 

"  What  aileth  thee  ?  "  said  Ahmed.  "  Hast  thou 
not  every  thing  thy  heart  can  wish  ?  " 

"Alas,  no  ! "  replied  the  dove,  "  am  I  not  sepa 
rated  from  the  partner  of  my  heart — and  that  too  in 
the  happy  spring-time — the  very  season  of  love  ?  " 


THE  PILGRIM  OF  LOVE.  197 

"  Of  love  !  "  echoed  Ahmed.  "  I  pray  thee,  my 
pretty  bird,  canst  thou  then  tell  me  what  is  love?  "' 

''Too  well  can  I,  my  prince./  It  is  the  torment  ot 
one,  the  felicity  of  two,  the  strife  and  enmity  of 
three.?  It  is  a  charm  which  draws  two  beings  to 
gether,  and  unites  them  by  delicious  sympathies, 
making  it  happiness  to  be  with  each  other,  nut  mis 
ery  to  be  apart.  Is  there  no  being  to  whom  you  are 
drawn  by  these  ties  of  tender  affection  ?  " 

"  I  like  my  old  teacher,  Ebon  Bonabbon,  better 
than  any  other  being ;  but  he  is  often  tedious,  and  I 
occasionally  feel  myself  happier  without  his  society." 

"  That  is  not  the  sympathy  I  mean.  I  speak  of 
love,  the  great  mystery  and  principle  of  life  ;  the  in 
toxicating  revel  of  youth  ;  the  sober  delight  of  age 
Look  forth,  my  prince,  and  behold  how  at  this  blest 
season  all  nature  is  full  of  love.  Every  created  being 
has  its  mate  ;  the  most  insignificant  bird  singes  to  its 
paramour  ;  the  very  beetle  woos  its  lady  beetle  in  the 
dust,  and  yon  butterflies  which  you  see  flutterh-g  high 
above  the  tower  and  toying  in  the  air  are  happy  in. 
each  other's  love.  Alas,  my  prince !  hast  thou 
spent  so  many  of  the  precious  days  of  youth  without 
knowing  any  thing  of  love  !  Is  there  no  geni'e  be 
ing  of  another  sex  ;  no  beautiful  princess,  or  lovely 
damsel  who  has  ensnared  your  heart,  and  filled  your 
bosom  with  a  soft  tumult  of  pleasing  pains  and  ten 
der  wishes  ?  " 

"  I  begin  to  understand ! "  said  the  prince  sigh 
ing.  "  Such  a  tumult  I  have  more  than  once  experi 
enced  without  knowing  the  cause  ;  and  where  should 
I  seek  for  an  object  such  as  you  describe  in  this  dis 
mal  solitude  ?  " 

A  little  further  conversation  ensued,  and  the  first 
amatory  lesson  of  the  prince  was  complete. 

"  Alas  !  "  said  he,  "  if  love  be  indeed  such  a  de 
light,  and  its  interruption  such  a  misery,  Allah  for 
bid  that  I  should  mar  the  joy  of  any  of  its  votaries." 


198  THE  ALHAMBRA. 


He  opened  the  cage,  took  out  the  dove,  and,  having 
fondly  kissed  it,  carried  it  to  the  window.  "  Go. 
happy  bird,"  said  he,  "rejoice  with  the  partner  ot 
thy  heart  in  the  days  of  youth  and  spring-time. 
Why  should  I  make  thee  a  fellow  prisoner  in  this 
dreary  tower,  where  love  can  never  enter  ?  " 

The  dove  flapped  its  wings  in  rapture,  gave  one 
vault  into  the  air,  and  then  swooped  downward  on 
whistling  wings  to  the  blooming  bowers  of  the  Darro. 

The  prince  followed  him  with  his  eyes,  and  then 
gave  way  to  bitter  repining.  The  singing  of  the 
birds  which  once  delighted  him  now  added  to  his 
bitterness.  Love  !  love  !  love  !  Alas,  poor  youth, 
he  now  understood  the  strain. 

His  eyes  flashed  fire  when  next  he  beheld  the  sage 
Bonabbon.  "Why  hast  thou  kept  me  in  this  abject 
ignorance  f"  cried  he.  "Why  has  the  great  mys 
tery  and  principle  of  life  been  withheld  from  me,  in 
xviuch  I  find  the  meanest  insect  is  so  learned  ?  Be- 
nold  all  nature  is  in  a  revel  of  delight.  Every  cre 
ated  being  rejoices  with  its  mate.  This — this  is  the 
love  about  which  I  have  sought  instruction  ;  why  am 
I  alone  debarred  its  enjoyment  ?  why  has  so  much 
OT  my  youth  been  wasted  without  a  knowledge  of 
its  rapture  ?  " 

The  sage  Bonabbon  saw  that  all  further  reserve 
was  useless,  for  the  prince  had  acquired  the  danger 
ous  and  forbidden  knowledge.  He  revealed  to  him, 
therefore,  the  predictions  of  the  astrologers,  and  the 
precautions  that  had  been  taken  in  his  education  to 
avert  the  threatened  evils.  "  And  now,  my  prince," 
added  he,  "  my  life  is  in  your  hands.  Let  the  king 
your  father  discover  that  you  have  learned  the  pas 
sion  of  love  while  under  my  guardianship,  and  my 
head  must  answer  for  it." 

The  prince  was  as  reasonable  as  most  young  men 
of  his  age,  and  easily  listened  to  the  remonstrances 
Of  his  tutor,  since  nothing  pleaded  against  them. 


THE  PILGRIM  OP  LOVE.  199 

Beside,  he  really  was  attached  to  the  sage  Bonab- 
bon,  and  being  as  yet  but  theoretically  acquainted 
With  the  passion  of  love,  he  consented  to  confine  the 
knowledge  of  it  to  his  own  bosom,  rather  than  en 
danger  the  head  of  the  philosopher.  His  discre 
tion  was  doomed,  however,  to  be  put  to  still  further 
proofs.  A  few  mornings  afterwards,  as  he  was  ru 
minating  on  the  battlements  of  the  tower,  the  dove 
which  had  been  released  by  him  came  hovering  in 
the  air.  and  alighted  fearlessly  upon  his  shoulder. 

The  prince  fondled  it  to  his  breast.  "  Happy 
bird,''  said  he,  "  who  can  fly,  as  it  were,  with  the 
wings  of  the  morning  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  the 
earth.  Where  hast  thou  been  since  we  parted  ?" 

"  In  a  far  country,  my  prince  ;  from  whence  I 
bring  you  tidings  in  reward  for  my  liberty.  In  the 
wide  compass  of  my  flight,  which  extends  over  plain 
and  mountain,  as  I  was  soaring  in  the  air,  I  beheld 
below  me  a  delightful  garden  with  all  kinds  of  fruits 
and  flowers.  It  was  in  a  green  meadow  on  the 
banks  of  a  meandering  stream,  and  in  the  centre  of 
the  garden  was  a  stately  palace.  I  alighted  in  one 
of  the  bowers  to  repose  after  my  weary  flight ;  on 
the  green  bank  below  me  was  a  youthful  princess  in 
the  very  sweetness  and  bloom  of  her  years.  She 
was  surrounded  by  female  attendants,  young  like 
herself,  who  decked  her  with  garlands  and  coronets 
of  flowers ;  but  no  flower  of  field  or  garden  could 
compare  with  her  for  loveliness.  Here,  however,  she 
bloomed  in  secret,  for  the  garden  was  surrounded  by 
high  walls,  and  no  mortal  man  was  permitted  to  enter. 
When  I  beheld  this  beauteous  maid  thus  young,  and 
innocent,  and  unspotted  by  the  world,  I  thought, 
here  is  the  being  formed  by  heaven  to  inspire  my 
prince  with  love." 

The  description  was  as  a  spark  of  fire  to  the  com 
bustible  heart  of  Ahmed  ;  all  the  latent  amorousness 
ol  his  temperament  had  at  once  found  an  object,  and 


200  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

he  conceived  an  immeasurable  passion  for  the  prin 
cess.  He  wrote  a  letter  couched  in  the  most  im 
passioned  language,  breathing  his  fervent  devotion, 
but  the  unhappy  thraldom  of  his  person,  which  pre- 
\ented  him  from  seeking  her  out,  and  throwing  him- 
Silf  at  her  feet.  He  added  couplets  of  the  most 
tender  and  moving  eloquence,  for  he  was  a  poet  by 
nature  and  inspired  by  love.  He  addressed  his  letter, 
"  To  the  unknown  beauty,  from  the  captive  prince 
Ahmed,"  then  perfuming  it  with  musk  and  roses,  he 
gave  it  to  the  dove. 

"Away,  trustiest  of  messengers,"  said  he.  "  Fly 
over  mountain,  and  valley,  and  river,  and  plain  ;  rest 
not  in  bower  nor  set  foot  on  earth,  until  thou  hast 
given  this  letter  to  the  mistress  of  my  heart." 

The  dove  soared  high  in  air,  and  luKing  his  coursa 
darted  away  in  one  undeviating  direction.  The 
prince  followed  him  with  his  eye  until  he  was  a  mere 
speck  on  a  cloud,  and  gradually  disappeared  behind 
a  mountain. 

Day  after  day  he  watched  for  the  return  of  the 
messenger  of  love  ;  but  he  watched  in  vain.  He 
began  to  accuse  him  of  forgetfulness,  when  towards 
sunset,  one  evening,  the  faithful  bird  fluttered  into 
his  apartment,  and,  falling  at  his  feet,  expired.  The 
arrow  of  some  wanton  archer  had  pierced  his  breast, 
yet  he  had  struggled  with  the  lingerings  of  life  to 
execute  his  mission.  As  the  prince  bent  with  grief 
over  this  gentle  martyr  to  fidelity,  he  beheld  a  chain 
of  pearls  round  his  neck,  attached  to  which,  beneath 
his  wing,  was  a  small  enamelled  picture.  It  repre 
sented  a  lovely  princess  in  the  very  flower  of  hei 
years.  It  was,  doubtless,  the  unknown  beauty  of  the 
garden  :  but  who  an:l  where  was  she — how  had  she 
veceived  his  letter — and  was  this  picture  sent  as  a 
token  of  an  approval  of  his  passion  ?  Unfortunately, 
the  death  of  the  faithful  dove  left  every  thing  in 
mystery  and  doubt. 


THE  PILGRIM  OF  LO  VE.  201 

The  prince  gazed  on  the  picture  till  his  eyes  swam 
with  tears.  He  pressed  it  to  his  lips  and  to  his 
heart ;  -he  sat  for  hours  contemplating  it  in  an  almost 
agony  of  tenderness.  "  Beautiful  image  !"  said  he. 
"  Alas,  thou  art  but  an  image.  Yet  thy  dewy  eyes 
beam  tenderly  upon  me ;  those  rosy  lips  look  as 
though  they  would  speak  encouragement.  Vaii 
fancies  !  Have  they  not  looked  the  same  on  some 
more  happy  rival  ?  But  where  in  this  wide  world 
shall  I  hope  to  find  the  original  ?  Who  knows  what 
mountains,  what  realms  may  separate  us?  What 
adverse  chances  may  intervene  ?  Perhaps  now, 
even  now,  lovers  may  be  crowding  around  her, 
while  I  sit  here,  a  prisoner  in  a  tower,  wasting  my 
time  in  adoration  of  a  painted  shadow." 

The  resolution  of  prince  Ahmed  was  taken.  "  I 
will  fly  from  this  palace,"  said  he,  "  which  has  be 
come  an  odious  prison,  and,  a  pilgrim  of  love,  will 
seek  this  unknown  princess  throughout  the  world." 

To  escape  from  the  tower  in  the  day,  when  every 
one  was  awake,  might  be  a  difficult  matter ;  but  at 
night  the  palace  was  slightly  guarded,  for  no  one 
apprehended  any  attempt  of  the  kind  from  the 
prince,  who  had  always  been  so  passive  in  his  cap 
tivity.  How  was  he  to  guide  himself,  however,  in 
his  darkling  flight,  being  ignorant  of  the  country. 
He  bethought  him  of  the  owl,  who  was  accustomed 
to  roam  at  night,  and  must  know  every  by-lane  and 
secret  pass.  Seeking  him  in  his  hermitage,  he 
questioned  him  touching  his  knowledge  of  the  land. 
Upon  this  the  owl  put  on  a  mighty  self-important 
look. 

"  You  must  know,  O  prince,"  said  he,  "  that  we 
owls  are  of  a  very  ancient  and  extensive  family, 
though  rather  fallen  to  decay,  and  possess  ruinous 
castles  and  palaces  in  all  parts  of  Spain.  There  is 
scarcely  a  tower  of  the  mountains,  or  fortress  of  the 
plains,  or  an  old  citadel  of  a  city  but  has  some 


g:2  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

brother,  or  uncle,  or  cousin  quartered  in  it ;  and  in 
going  the  rounds  to  visit  these  my  numerous 
kindred  I  have  pryed  into  every  nook  and  corner, 
and  made  myself  acquainted  with  every  secret  of 
the  land." 

The  prince  was  overjoyed  to  find  the  owl  so  deep 
ly  versed  in  topography,  and  now  informed  him,  in 
confidence,  of  his  tender  passion  and  his  intended 
elopement,  urging  him  to  be  his  companion  and 
counsellor. 

"  Go  to  !  "  said  the  owl,  with  a  look  of  displeasure. 
"Am  I  a  bird  to  engage  in  a  love  affair;  I  whose 
whole  time  is  devoted  to  meditation  and  the  moon  !  " 

"  Be  not  offended,  most  solemn  owl !  "  replied  the 
prince.  "  Abstract  thyself  for  a  time  from  medita 
tion  and  the  moon,  and  aid  me  in  my  flight,  and  thou 
shalt  have  whatever  heart  can  wish." 

"  I  have  that  already,"  said  the  owl.  "  A  few 
mice  are  sufficient  for  my  frugal  table,  and  this  hole 
in  the  wall  is  spacious  enough  for  my  studies,  and 
what  more  does  a  philosopher  like  myself  desire  ?  " 

"  Bethink  thee,  most  wise  owl,  that  while  moping 
in  thy  cell  and  gazing  at  the  moon  all  thy  talents  are 
lost  to  the  world.  I  shall  one  day  be  a  sovereign 
prince,  and  may  advance  thee  to  some  post  of  hon 
our  and  dignity." 

The  owl,  though  a  philosopher  and  above  the 
ordinary  wants  of  life,  was  not  above  ambition, 
fio  he  was  finally  prevailed  upon  to  elope  with  the 
prince,  and  be  his  guide  and  Mentor  in  his  pil 
grimage. 

The  plans  of  a  lover  are  promptly  executed.  The 
prince  collected  all  his  jewels  and  concealed  them 
about  his  person  as  travelling  funds.  That  very 
night  he  lowered  himself  by  his  scarf  from  a  balcony 
of  the  tower,  clambered  over  the  outer  walls  of  the 
Generaiiffe,  and  guided  by  the  owl,  made  good  his 
escape  before  morning  to  the  mountains. 


THE  PILGRIM  OF  LOVE.  203 

He  now  held  a  council  with  his  Mentor  as  to  his 
future  course. 

"  Might  I  advise,"  said  the  owl,  "  I  would  recom 
mend  you  to  repair  to  Seville.  You  must  know  that 
many  years  since  I  was  on  a  visit  to  an  uncle,  an 
owl  of  great  dignity  and  power,  who  lived  in  a  ruined 
wing  of  the  Alcazar  of  that  place.  In  my  hoverings 
at  night  over  the  city  I  frequently  remarked  a  light 
burning  in  a  lonely  tower.  At  length  I  alighted  on 
the  battlements,  and  found  it  to  proceed  from  the 
lamp  of  an  Arabian  magician.  He  was  surrounded 
by  his  magic  books,  and  on  his  shoulder  was  perched 
his  familiar,  an  ancient  raven,  who  had  come  with 
him  from  Egypt.  I  became  acquainted  with  that 
raven,  and  owe  to  him  a  great  part  of  the  knowledge 
I  possess.  The  magician  is  since  dead,  but  the 
raven  still  inhabits  the  tower,  for  these  birds  are  of 
wonderful  long  life.  I  would  advise  you,  O  prince, 
to  seek  that  raven,  for  he  is  a  soothsayer  and  a 
conjuror,  and  deals  in  the  black  art,  for  which  all 
ravens,  and  especially  those  of  Egypt,  are  renowned." 

The  prince  was  struck  with  the  wisdom  of  this 
advice,  and  accordingly  bent  his  course  towards 
Seville.  He  travelled  only  in  the  night,  to  accom 
modate  his  companion,  and  lay  by  during  the  day 
in  some  dark  cavern  or  mouldering  watch-tower, 
for  the  owl  knew  every  hiding  hole  of  the  kind  in 
the  country,  and  had  a  most  antiquarian  taste  for 
ruins. 

At  length,  one  morning  at  day-break  they  reached 
the  city  of  Seville,  where  the  owl,  who  hated  the 
glare  and  bustle  of  crowded  streets,  halted  without 
the  gate,  and  took  up  his  quarters  in  a  hollow  tree. 

The  prince  entered  the  gate  and  readily  found 
the  magic  tower,  which  rose  above  the  houses  of 
the  city  as  a  palm  tree  rises  above  the  shrubs  of  the 
desert.  It  was,  in  fact,  the  same  tower  known  at 
the  present  day  a$  the  Giralda.  the  famous  Moorish 
tower  of  Seville. 


204  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

The  prince  ascended  by  a  great  winding  stairqase 
to  the  summit  of  the  tower,  where  he  found  the 
cabalistic  raven,  an  old,  mysterious,  gray-headed 
bird,  ragged  in  feather,  with  a  film  over  one  eye 
that  gave  him  the  glare  of  a  spectre.  He  was 
perched  on  one  leg,  with  his  head  turned  on  one 
side,  and  poring  with  his  remaining  eye  on  a  diagram 
described  on  the  pavement. 

The  prince  approached  him  with  the  awe  and 
reverence  naturally  inspired  by  his  venerable  ap 
pearance  and  supernatural  wisdom.  "  Pardon  me, 
most  ancient  and  darkly  wise  raven,"  exclaimed  he, 
"  if  for  a  moment  I  interrupt  those  studies  which  are 
the  wonder  of  the  world.  You  behold  before  you  a 
votary  of  love,  who  would  fain  seek  counsel  how  to 
obtain  the  object  of  his  passion." 

"  In  other  words,"  said  the  raven  with  a  signifi 
cant  look,  "you  seek  to  try  my  skill  in  palmistry. 
Come,  show  me  your  hand,  and  let  me  decipher  the 
mysterious  lines  of  fortune." 

"Excuse  me,"  said  the  prince,"!  come  not  to 
pry  into  the  decrees  of  fate,  which  are  hidden  by 
Allah  from  the  eyes  of  mortals.  I  am  a  pilgrim  of 
love,  and  seek  but  to  find  a  clue  to  the  object  of  my 
pilgrimage." 

"  And  can  you  be  at  any  loss  for  an  object  in  am 
orous  Andalusia,"  said  the  old  raven,  leering  upon 
trim  wiLi  his  single  eye.  "  Above  all,  can  you  be  at 
a  loss  in  wanton  Seville,  where  black-eyed  damsels 
dance  the  zambra  under  every  orange  grove  ?  " 

The  prince  blushed  and  was  somewhat  shocked  at 
hearing  an  old  bird,  with  one  foot  in  the  grave,  talk 
thus  loosely.  ''Believe  me,"  said  he  gravely,  "  I  am 
on  none  such  light  and  vagrant  errand  as  thou  dost 
insinuate.  The  black-eyed  damsels  of  Andalusia 
who  dance  among  the  orange  groves  of  the  Guadal- 
quiver,  are  .as  naught  to  me.  I  seek  one  unknown 
but  immaculate  beauty,  the  original  of  this  picture, 


THE  PIL  GRIM  OF  LOVE.  205 

and  I  beseech  thee,  most  potent  "raven,  if  it  be  within 
the  scope  of  thy  knowledge,  or  the  reach  of  thy  art, 
inform  me  where  she  may  be  found." 

The  gray-headed  raven  was  rebuked  by  the  grav 
ity  of  the  prince.  "  What  know  I,"  replied  he  dryly, 
"  of  youth  and  beauty  ?  My  visits  are  to  the  old  and 
withered,  not  the  young  and  fair.  The  harbinger 
of  fate  am  I,  who  croak  bodings  of  death  from  the 
chimney  top,  and  flap  my  wings  at  the  sick  man's 
window.  You  must  seek  elsewhere  for  tidings  of 
your  unknown  beauty." 

"  And  where  am  I  to  seek,  if  not  among  the  sons 
of  wisdom,  versed  in  the  book  of  destiny  ?  A  royal 
prince  am  I,  fated  by  the  stars  and  sent  on  a  myste 
rious  enterprise,  on  which  may  hang  the  destiny  of 
empires." 

When  the  raven  heard  that  it  was  a  matter  of  vast 
moment,  in  which  the  stars  took  interest,  he  changed 
his  tone  and  manner,  and  listened  with  profound  at 
tention  to  the  story  of  the  prince.  When  it  was 
concluded,  he  replied,  "Touching  this  princess,  I  can 
give  thee  no  information  of  myself,  for  my  flight  is 
not  among  gardens  or  around  ladies'  bowers ;  but 
hie  thee  to  Cordova,  seek  the  palm-tree  of  the  great 
Abderahman.  which  stands  in  the  court  of  the  prin 
cipal  mosque ;  at  the  foot  of  it  you  will  find  a  great 
traveller,  who  has  visited  all  countries  and  courts, 
and  been  a  favourite  with  queens  and  princesses. 
He  will  give  you  tidings  of  the  object  of  your  search." 

"  Many  thanks  for  this  precious  information  "  said 
the  prince.  "Farewell,  most  venerable  conjuror." 

"  Farewell,  pilgrim  of  love,"  said  the  raven  dryly, 
and  again  fell  to  pondering  on  the  diagram. 

The  prince  sallied  forth  from  Seville,  sought  his 
fellow  traveller  the  owl,  who  was  still  dozing  in  the 
hollow  tree,  and  set  off  for  Cordova. 

He  approached  it  along  hanging  gardens,  and  or 
ange  and  citron  groves  overlooking  the  fair  valley  of 


206  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

the  Guadalquiver.  When  arrived  at  its  gates  the 
owl  flew  up  to  a  dark  hole  in  the  wall,  and  the  piince 
proceeded  in  quest  of  the  palm-tree  planted  in  days 
of  yore  by  the  great  Abderahman.  It  stood  in  the 
midst  of  the  great  court  of  the  Mosque,  towering 
from  amidst  orange  and  cypress  trees.  Dervises  and 
Faquirs  were  seated  in  groups  under  the  cloisters  of 
the  court,  and  many  of  the  faithful  were  performing 
their  ablutions  at  the  fountains,  before  entering  the 
Mosque. 

At  the  foot  of  the  pnlm-tree  was  a  crowd  listening 
to  the  words  of  one  who  appeared  to  be  talking  with 
great  volubility.  This,  said  the  prince  to  himself, 
must  be  the  great  traveller  who  is  to  give  me  tidings 
of  the  unknown  princess.  He  mingled  in  the  crowd, 
but  was  astonished  to  perceive  that  they  were  all 
listening  to  a  parrot,  who,  with  his  bright  green 
coat,  pragmatical  eye,  and  consequential  topknot, 
had  the  air  of  a  bird  on  excellent  terms  with  himself. 

"  How  is  this,"  said  the  prince  to  one  of  the  by 
standers,  "  that  so  many  grave  persons  can  be  de 
lighted  with  the  garrulity  of  a  chattering  bird  ?  " 

"You  know  not  of  whom  you  speak,"  said  the 
other ;  "  this  parrot  is  a  descendant  of  the  famous 
parrot  of  Persia,  renowned  for  his  story-telling  tal 
ent.  He  has  all  the  learning  of  the  East  at  the  tip 
of  his  tongue,  and  can  quote  poetry  as  fast  as  he  can 
talk.  He  has  visited  various  foreign  courts,  where 
he  has  been  considered  an  oracle  of  erudition.  He 
has  been  a  universal  favourite  also  with  the  fair  sex, 
who  have  a  vast  admiration  for  erudite  parrots  that 
can  quote  poetry." 

"  Enough,"  said  the  prince,  "  I  will  have  some 
private  talk  with  this  distinguished  traveller." 

He  sought  a  private  interview,  and  expounded 
the  nature  of  his  errand.  He  had  scarcely  mention 
ed  it  when  the  parrot  burst  into  a  fit  of  dry  rickety 
laughter,  that  absolutely  brought  tears  in  his  eyes. 


THE  PILGRIM  OF  LOVE.  207 

'•'  Excuse  my  mirth,"  said  he,  "  but  the  mere  mention 
of  love  always  sets  me  laughing." 

The  prince  was  shocked  at  this  ill-timed  merri 
ment  "Is  not  love,"  said  he,  "the  great  mystery 
of  nature, — the  secret  principle  of  life, — the  universal 
bond  of  sympathy  ?  " 

"A  fig's  end'!"  cried  the  parrot,  interrupting 
him.  "  Fry'thee  where  hast  them  learnt  this  senti 
mental  jargon?  Trust  me,  love  is  quite  out  of 
vogue  ;  one  never  hears  of  it  in  the  company  of  wits 
and  people  of  refinement." 

The  prince  sighed  as  he  recalled  the  different 
language  of  his  friend  the  dove.  But  this  parrot, 
thought  he,  has  lived  about  court ;  he  affects  the  wit 
and  the  fine  gentleman ;  he  knows  nothing  of  the 
thing  called  love. 

Unwilling  to  provoke  any  more  ridicule  of  the 
sentiment  which  filled  his  heart,  he  now  directed 
his  inquiries  to  the  immediate  purport  of  his  visit. 

"Teil  me,"  said  he,  "most  accomplished  parrot, 
thou  who  hast  every  where  been  admitted  to  the 
most  secret  bowers  of  beauty,  hast  thou  in  the 
course  of  thy  travels  met  with  the  original  of  this1 
portrait?" 

The  parrot  took  the  picture  in  his  claw,  turned 
his  head  from  side  to  side,  and  examined  it  curiously 
with  either  eye.  "Upon  my  honour,"  said  he,  "a 
very  pretty  face  ;  very  pretty.  But  then  one  sees  so 
m my  pretty  women  in  one's  travels  that  one  can 
hardly — but  hold — bless  me  !  now  I  look  at  it  again 
—sure  enough,  this  is  the  princess  Aldegonda :  how 
;ould  I  forget  one  that  is  so  prodigious  a  favourite 
with  me?  " 

"  The  princess  Aldegonda ! "  echoed  the  prince, 
'  and  where  is  she  to  be  found  ?  " 

"Softly — softly,"  said  the  parrot,  "easier  to  be 
iound  than  gained.  She  is  the  only  daughter  of  the 
Christian  king  who  reigns  at  Toledo,  and  is  shut  up 


208  THE  ALHAMBEA. 

from  the  world  until  her  seventeenth  birth-day,  on 
account  of  some  prediction  of  those  meddlesome 
fellows,  the  astrologers.  You'll  not  get  a  sight  of 
her,  no  mortal  man  can  see  her.  I  was  admitted  to 
her  presence  to  entertain  her,  and  I  assure  you,  on 
*he  word  of  a  parrot  who  has  seen  the  world,  1  have 
conversed  with  much  sillier  princesses  in  my  time." 

"  A  word  in  confidence,  my  dear  parrot,"  said  the 
prince.  "I  am  heir  to  a  kingdom,  and  shall  one 
day  sit  upon  a  throne.  I  see  that  you  are  a  bird  of 
parts  and  understand  the  wo  J.  Help  me  to  gain 
possession  of  this  princess  anc  I  will  advance  you  to 
some  distinguished  post  about  court" 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  said  the  parrot;  "but  let  it 
be  a  sinecure  if  possible,  for  we  wits  have  a  great 
dislike  to  labour." 

Arrangements  were  promptly  made ;  the  prince 
sallied  forth  from  Cordova  through  the  same  gate  by 
which  he  had  entered  ;  called  the  owl  down  from 
the  hole  in  the  wall,  introduced  him  to  his  new 
travelling  companion  as  a  brother  sgavant,  and  away 
they  set  off  on  their  journey. 

They  travelled  much  more  slowly  than  accorded 
with  the  impatience  of  the  prince,  but  the  parrot 
was  accustomed  to  high  life,  and  did  not  like  to  be 
disturbed  early  in  the  morning.  The  owl,  on  the 
other  hand,  was  for  sleeping  at  mid-day,  and  lost  a 
great  deal  of  time  by  his  long  siestas.  His  anti 
quarian  taste  also  was  in  the  way ;  for  he  insisted 
on  pausing  and  inspecting  every  ruin,  and  had  long 
legendary  tales  to  tell  about  every  old  tower  and 
castle  in  the  country.  The  prince  had  supposed 
that  he  and  the  parrot,  being  both  birds  of  learning, 
could  delight  in  each  other's  society,  but  never  had 
he  been  more  mistaken.  They  were  eternally  bick 
ering.  The  one  was  a  wit,  the  other  a  philosopher. 
The  parrot  quoted  poetry,  was  critical  on  new  read 
ings,  and  eloquent  on  small  points  of  erudition  ;  the 


THE  PILGRIM  OF  LOVE.  209 

owl  treated  all  such  knowledge  as  trifling1,  and 
relished  nothing  but  metaphysics.  Then  the  parrot 
would  sing  songs  and  repeat  bon  mots,  and  crack 
jokes  upon  his  solemn  neighbour,  and  laugh  out 
rageously  at  his  own  wit ;  all  which  the  owl  con 
sidered  a  grievous  invasion  of  his  dignity,  and  would 
scowl,  and  sulk,  and  swell,  and  sit  silent  for  a  whole 
day  together. 

The  prince  heeded  not  the  wranglings  of  his 
companions,  being  wrapped  up  in  the  dreams  of  his 
own  fancy,  and  the  contemplation  of  the  portrait  of 
the  beautiful  princess.  In  this  way  they  journeyed 
through  the  stern  passes  of  the  Sierra  Morena,  across 
the  sunburnt  plains  of  La  Mancha  and  Castile,  and 
along  the  banks  of  the  "  Golden  Tagus,"  which 
winds  its  wizard  mazes  over  one-half  of  Spain  and 
Portugal.  At  length,  they  came  in  sight  of  a  strong 
city  with  walls  and  towers,  built  on  a  rocky  promon 
tory,  round  the  foot  of  which  the  Tagus  circled  with 
brawling  violence. 

"  Behold,"  exclaimed  the  owl,  "the  ancient  and 
renowned  city  of  Toledo ;  a  city  famous  for  its 
antiquities.  Behold  those  venerable  domes  and 
towers,  hoary  with  time,  and  clothed  with  legendary 
grandeur ;  in  which  so  many  of  my  ancestors  have 
meditated —  " 

"  Pish,"  cried  the  parrot,  interrupting  his  solemn 
antiquarian  rapture,  "what  have  we  to  do  with  anti 
quities,  and  legends,  and  your  ancestors?  Behold, 
what  is  more  to  the  purpose,  behold  the  abode  of 
youth  and  beauty, — behold,  at  length,  oh  prince,  the 
abode  of  your  long  sought  princess." 

The  prince  looked  in  the  direction  indicated  by 
the  parrot,  and  beheld,  in  a  delightful  green  meadow 
on  the  banks  of  the  Tagus,  a  stately  palace  rising 
from  amidst  the  bowers  of  a  delicious  garden.  It 
was  just  such  a  place  as  had  been  described  by  the 
dove  as  the  residence  of  the  original  of  the  picture. 


310  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

He  gazed  at  it  with  a  throbbing-  heart :  "  Perhaps 
at  this  moment,"  thought  he,  "the  beautiful  prin 
cess  is  sporting  beneath  those  shady  bovvers,  or 
pacing  with  delicate  step  those  stately  terraces,  or 
reposing  beneath  those  lofty  roofs  !  "  As  he  looked 
more  narrowly,  he  perceived  that  the  walls  of  the 
garden  were  of  great  height,  so  as  to  defy  access, 
while  numbers  of  armed  guards  patrolled. around 
them. 

The  prince  turned  to  the  parrot.  "  Oh  most 
accomplished  of  birds,"  said  he,  "thou  hast  the 
gift  of  human  speech.  Hie  thee  to  yon  garden  ; 
seek  the  idol  of  my  soul,  and  tell  her  that  prince 
Ahmed,  a  pilgrim  of  love,  and  guided  by  the  stars, 
has  arrived  in  quest  of  her  on  the  flowery  banks  of 
the  Tagus." 

The  parrot,  proud  of  his  embassy,  flew  away  to 
the  garden,  mounted  above  its  lofty  walls,  and,  after 
soaring  for  a  time  over  the  lawns  and  groves, 
alighted  on  the  balcony  of  a  pavilion  that  overhung 
the  river.  Here,  looking  in  at  the  casement,  he  be 
held  the  princess  reclining  on  a  couch,  with  her 
eyes  fixed  on  a  paper,  while  tears  gently  stole  after 
each  other  down  her  pallid  cheek. 

Pluming  his  wings  for  a  moment,  adjusting  his 
bright  green  coat,  and  elevating  his  topknot,  the 
parrot  perched  himself  beside  her  with  a  gallant  air  ; 
then  assuming  a  tenderness  of  tone, — 

"  Dry  thy  tears,  most  beautiful  of  princesses,"  said 
he,  "  I  come  to  bring  solace  to  thy  heart." 

The  princess  was  startled  on  hearing  a  voice,  but 
turning  and  seeing  nothing  but  a  little  green-coated 
bird  bobbing  and  bowing  before  her  : — "  Alas  !  what 
so;ace  canst  thou  yield,"  said  she,  "seeing  thou  art 
but  a  parrot !  " 

The  parrot  was  nettled  at  the  question.  "  I  have 
consoled  many  beautiful  ladies  in  my  time,"  said 
he  ;  "  but  let  that  pass.  At  present,  I  come  ambas 
sador  from  a  royal  prince.  Know  that  Ahmed,  the 


THE  PILGRIM  OF  LOVE.  211 

prince  of  Granada,  has  arrived  in  quest  of  thee,  and 
is  encamped  even  now  on  the  flowery  banks  of  the 
Tagus." 

The  eyes  of  the  beautiful  princess  sparkled  at  these 
words,  even  brighter  than  the  diamonds  in  her  coro 
net.  "O  sweetest  of  parrots,"  cried  she,  "joyful 
indeed  are  thy  tidings  ;  for  I  was  faint,  and  weary, 
and  sick  almost  unto  death,  with  doubt  of  the  con 
stancy  of  Ahmed.  Hie  thee  back,  and  tell  him  that 
the  words  of  his  letter  are  engraven  in  my  heart, 
and  his  poetry  has  been  the  food  of  my  soul.  Tell 
him,  however,  that  he  must  prepare  to  prove  his 
love  by  force  of  arms ;  to-morrow  is  my  seventeenth 
birth-day,  when  the  king,  my  father,  holds  a  great 
tournament ;  several  princes  are  to  enter  the  lists, 
and  my  hand  is  to  be  the  prize  of  the  victor." 

The  parrot  again  took  wing,  and,  rustling  through 
the  groves,  flew  back  to  where  the  prince  awaited 
his  return.  The  rapture  of  Ahmed  on  finding  the 
original  of  his  'adored  portrait,  and  finding  her  kind 
and  true,  can  only  be  conceived  by  those  favoured 
mortals,  who  have  had  the  good  fortune  to  realize 
day  dreams,  and  turn  shadows  into  substance.  Still 
there  was  one  thing  that  alloyed  his  transport, — • 
this  impending  tournament.  In  fact,  the  banks  of 
the  Tagus  were  already  glittering  with  arms,  and 
resounding  with  trumpets  of  the  various  knights, 
who  with  proud  retinues  were  prancing  on  towards 
Toledo,  to  attend  the  ceremonial.  The  same  star 
that  had  controlled  the  destiny  of  the  prince,  had 
governed  that  of  the  princess,  and  until  her  seven 
teenth  birth-day,  she  had  been  shut  up  from  the 
world,  to  guard  her  from  the  tender  passion.  The 
fame  of  her  charms,  however,  had  been  enhanced, 
rather  than  obscured  by  this  seclusion.  Several 
powerful  princes  had  contended  for  her  alliance,  and 
her  father,  who  was  a  king  of  wondrous  shrewdness, 
to  avoid  making  enemies  by  showing  partiality,  had 


213  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

referred  them  to  the  arbitrament  of  arms.  Among 
the  rival  candidates,  were  several  renowned  for 
strength  and  prowess.  What  a  predicament  for  the 
unfortunate  Ahmed,  unorovided  as  he  was  vvith 
weapons,  and  unskilled  in  the  exercises  of  chivalry. 
"  Luckless  prince  that  I  am !  "  said  he,  "  to  have 
been  brought  up  in  seclusion,  under  the  eye  of  a 
philosopher  !  of  what  avail  are  algeora  and  philos 
ophy  in  affairs  of  love !  alas,  Ebon  Bonabbon,  why 
hast  thou  neglected  to  instruct  me  in  the  manage 
ment  of  arms  ?  "  Upon  this  the  owl  broke  silence 
prefacing  his  harangue  with  a  pious  ejaculation,  for 
he  was  a  devout  Mussulman  : 

"  Allah  Achbar  !  '  God  is  great/  "  exclaimed  he  , 
"  in  his  hands  are  all  secret  things,  he  alone  governs 
the  destiny  of  princes  !  Know,  O  prince,  that  this 
land  is  full  of  mysteries,  hidden  from  all  but  those 
who,  like  myself,  can  grope  after  knowledge  in  the 
dark.  Know  that  in  the- neighbouring  mountains 
there  is  a  cave,  and  in  that  cave  there  is  an  iron 
table,  and  on  that  table  lies  a  suit  of  magic  armour 
and  beside  that  table  stands  a  spell-bound  steed, 
which  have  been  shut  up  there  for  many  genera 
tions." 

The  prince  stared  with  wonder,  while  the  owl 
blinking  his  huge  round  eyes  and  erecting  his  horns, 
proceeded : 

"  Many  years  since,  I  accompanied  my  father  to 
these  parts  on  a  tour  of  his  estates,  and  we  so 
journed  in  that  cave,  and  thus  became  I  acquainted 
with  the  mystery.  It  is  a  tradition  in  our  family, 
which  I  have  heard  from  my  grandfather  when  I 
was  yet  but  a  very  little  owlet,  that  this  armour  be 
longed  to  a  Moorish  magician,  who  took  refuge  in. 
this  cavern  when  Toledo  was  captured  by  the  Chris 
tians,  and  died  here,  leaving  his  steed  and  weapons 
under  a  mystic  spell,  never  to  be  used  but  by  a  Mos 
lem,,  and  by  him  only  from  sunrise  to  mid-day.  In 


THE  PILGRIM  OF  LO  VE.  213 

that  interval,  whoever  uses  them,  will  overthrow 
every  opponent." 

"  Enough,  let  us  seek  this  cave,"  exclaimed 
Ahmed. 

Guided  by  his  legendary  Mentor,  the  prince  found 
the  cavern,  which  was  in  one  of  the  wildest  recesses 
of  those  rocky  cliffs  which  rose  around  Toledo ; 
none  but  the  mousing  eye  of  an  owl  or  an  antiquary 
could  have  discovered  the  entrance  to  it.  A  sepul 
chral  lamp  of  everlasting  oil,  shed  a  solemn  light 
through  the  place.  On  an  iron  table  in  the  centre 
of  the  cavern  lay  the  magic  armour,  against  it  leaned 
the  lance,  and  beside  it  stood  an  Arabian  steed, 
caparisoned  for  the  field,  but  motionless  as  a  statue. 
The  armour  was  bright  and  unsullied,  as  it  had 
gleamed  in  days  of  old ;  the  steed  in  as  good  condi 
tion  as  if  just  from  the  pasture,  and  when  Ahmed 
laid  his  hand  upon  his  neck,  he  pawed  the  ground 
and  gave  a  loud  neigh  of  joy  that  shook  the  walls 
of  the  cavern.  Thus  provided  with  horse  to  ride 
and  weapon  to  wear,  the  prince  determined  to  defy 
the  field  at  the  impending  tourney. 

The  eventful  morning  arrived.  The  lists  for  the 
combat  were  prepared  in  the  Vega  or  plain  just 
below  the  cliff-built  walls  of  Toledo.  Here  were 
erected  stages  and  galleries  for  the  spectators,  cov 
ered  with  rich  tapestry  and  sheltered  from  the  sun 
by  silken  awnings.  All  the  beauties  of  the  land 
were  assembled  in  those  galleries,  while  below 
pranced  plumed  knights  with  their  pages  and  es 
quires,  among  whom  figured  conspicuously  the 
princes  who  were  to  contend  in  the  tourney.  All 
the  beauties  of  the  land,  however,  were  eclipsed, 
when  the  princess  Aldegonda  appeared  in  the  royal 
pavilion,  and  for  the  first  time  broke  forth  upon  the 
gaze  of  an  admiring  world.  A  murmur  of  wonder 
ran  through  the  crowd  at  her  transcendent  loveli 
ness ;  and  the  princes  who  were  candidates  for  her 


214  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

)iand-  merely  on  the  faith  of  her  reported  charms, 
now  felt  ten-fold  ardour  for  the  conflict. 

The  princess,  however,  had  a  troubled  look.  The 
colour  came  and  went  from  her  cheek,  and  her  eye 
wandered  with  a  restless  and  unsatisfied  expression 
over  the  plumed  throng  of  knights.  The  trumpets 
were  about  sounding  for  the  encounter  when  a 
herald  announced  the  arrival  of  a  stranger  knight, 
and  Ahmed  rode  into  the  field.  A  steeled  helmet 
studded  with  gems  rose  above  his  turban ;  his  cui 
rass  was  embossed  with  gold;  his  scimitar  and 
dagger  were  of  the  workmanship  of  Fay,  and  flamed 
with  precious  stones.  A  round  shield  was  at  his 
shoulder,  and  in  his  hand  he  bore  the  lance  of 
charmed  virtue.  The  caparison  of  his  Arabian  was 
richly  embroidered,  and  swept  the  ground  ;  and  the 
proud  animal  pranced  and  snuffed  the  air,  and 
neighed  with  joy  at  once  more  beholding  the  array 
of  arms.  The  lofty  and  graceful  demeanour  of  the 
prince  struck  every  eye,  and  when  his  appellation 
was  announced,  "  The  pilgrim  of  love,"  a  universal 
flutter  and  agitation  prevailed  among  the  fair  dames 
in  the  galleries. 

When  Ahmed  presented  himself  at  the  lists,  how 
ever,  they  were  closed  against  him  ;  none  but  princes, 
he  was  told,  were  admitted  to  the  contest.  He  de 
clared  his  name  and  rank.  Still  worse,  he  was  a 
Moslem,  and  could  not  engage  in  a  tourney  where 
the  hand  of  a  Christian  princess  was  the  prize. 

The  rival  princes  surrounded  him  with  haughty 
and  menacing  aspects,  and  one  of  insolent  demeanour 
and  Herculean  frame  sneered  at  his  light  and  youth 
ful  form,  and  scoffed  at  his  amorous  appellation. 
The  ire  of  the  prince  was  roused ;  he  defied  his  rival 
to  the  encounter.  They  took  distance,  wheeled, 
and  charged  ;  at  the  first  touch  of  the  magic  lance 
the  brawny  scoffer  was  tilted  from  his  saddle.  Here 
the  prince  would  have  paused,  but  alas  !  he  had  to 


THE  PILGRIM  OF  LOVE.  215 

deal  with  a  demoniac  horse  and  armour :  once  in 
action,  nothing  could  control  them.  The  Arabian 
steed  charged  into  the  thickest  of  the  throng :  the 
lance  overturned  every  thing  that  presented  ;  the 
gentle  prince  was  carried  pell-mell  about  the  field, 
strewing  it  with  high  and  low,  gentle  and  simple, 
and  grieving  at  his  own  involuntary  exploits.  The 
king  stormed  and  raged  at  this  outrage  on  his  sub 
jects  and  his  guests.  He  ordered  out  all  his  guards 
— they  were  unhorsed  as  fast  as  they  came  up.  The 
king  threw  off  his  robes,  grasped  buckler  and  lance, 
and  rode  forth  to  awe  the  stranger  with  the  presence 
of  majesty  itself.  Alas,  majesty  fared  no  better  than 
the  vulgar  ;  the  steed  and  lance  were  no  respecters 
of  persons  ;  to  the  dismay  of  Ahmed,  he  was  borne 
full  tilt  against  the  king,  and  in  a  moment  the  royal 
heels  were  in  the  air,  and  the  crown  was  rolling  in 
the  dust. 

At  this  moment  the  sun  reached  the  meridian  ; 
the  magic  spell  resumed  its  power.  The  Arabian 
steed  scoured  across  the  plain,  leaped  the  barrier, 
plunged  into  the  Tagus,  swam  its  raging  current, 
core  the  prince,  breathless  and  amazed,  to  the  cav 
ern,  and  resumed  his  station  like  a  statue  beside  the 
iron  table.  The  prince  dismounted  right  gladly, 
and  replaced  the  armour,  to  abide  the  further  de 
crees  of  fate.  Then  seating  himself  in  the  cavern, 
he  ruminated  on  the  desperate  state  to  which  this 
bedeviled  steed  and  armour  had  reduced  him.  Never 
should  he  dare  to  show  his  face  at  Toledo,  after  in 
flicting  such  disgrace  upon  its  chivalry,  and  such  an 
outrage  on  its  king.  What,  too,  would  the  princess 
think  of  so  rude  and  riotous  an  achievement?  Full 
of  anxiety,  he  sent  forth  his  winged  messengers  to 
gather  tidings.  The' parrot  resorted  to  all  the  public 
places  and  crowded  resorts  of  the  city,  and  soon  re 
turned  with  a  world  of  gossip.  All  Toledo  was  in 
consternation.  The  princess  had  been  borne  off  sense- 


216  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

less  to  the  palace ;  the  tournament  had  ended  in  con 
fusion  ;  every  one  was  talking  of  the  su  Men  appari 
tion,  prodigious  exploits,  and  strange  disappearance 
of  the  Moslem  knight.  Some  pronounced  him  a 
Moorish  magician  ;  others  thought  him  a  demon 
who  had  assumed  a  human  shape  ;  whi  ft  others  re 
lated  traditions  of  enchanted  warriors  hidden  in  the 
caves  of  the  mountains,  and  thought  it  might  be  one 
of  these,  who  had  made  a  sudden  irruption  from  his 
den.  All  agreed  that  no  mere  ordinary  mortal 
could  have  wrought  such  wonders,  or  unhorsed  such 
accomplished  and  stalwart  Christian  warriors. 

The  owl  flew  forth  at  night,  and  hovered  about 
the  dusky  city,  perching  on  the  roofs  and  chimneys. 
He  then  wheeled  his  flight  up  to  the  loyal  palace, 
which  stood  on  the  rocky  summit  of  Toledo,  and 
went  prowling  about  its  terraces  and  battlements, 
eaves-dropping  at  every  cranny,  and  glaring  in  with 
his  big  goggling  eyes  at  every  window  where  there 
was  a  light,  so  as  to  throw  two  or  three  maids  of 
honour  into  fits.  It  was  not  until  the  gray  dawn 
began  to  peer  above  the  mountains  that  he  returned 
from  his  mousing  expedition,  and  related  to  the 
prince  what  he  had  seen. 

"  As  I  was  prying  about  one  of  the  loftiest  towers 
of  the  palace,"  said  he,  "I  beheld  through  a  case 
ment  a  beautiful  princess.  She  was  reclining  on  a 
couch,  with  attendants  and  physicians  around  her, 
but  she  would  none  of  their  ministry  and  relief. 
When  they  retired,  I  beheld  her  draw  forth  a  letter 
from  her  bosom,  and  read,  and  kiss  it,  and  give  way 
to  loud  lamentations  ;  at  which,  philosopher  as  1 
am,  I  could  not  but  be  greatly  moved." 

The  tender  heart  of  Ahmed  was  distressed  at 
these  tidings.  "  Too  true  were  thy  words,  oh  sage 
Ebon  Bonabbon  ! "  cried  he.  "  Care  and  sorrow, 
and  sleepless  nights  are  the  lot  of  lovers.  Allah 
preserve  the  princess  from  the  blighting  influence  of 
this  thing  called  love." 


THE  PILGRIM  OF  LO  VE.          217 

Further  intelligence  from  Toledo  corroborated  the 
report  of  the  owl.  The  city  was  a  prey  to  uneasi 
ness  and  alarm.  The  princess  was  conveyed  to  the 
highest  tower  of  the  palace,  every  avenue  to  which 
was  strongly  guarded.  In  the  mean  time,  a  devour 
ing  melancholy  had  seized  upon  her,  of  which  no 
one  could  divine  the  cause.  She  refused  food,  and 
turned  a  deaf  ear  to  every  consolation.  The  most 
skilful  physicians  had  essayed  their  art  in  vain  ;  it 
was  thought  some  magic  spell  had  been  practised 
upon  her,  and  the  king  made  proclamation,  declar 
ing  that  whoever  should  effect  her  cure,  should 
receive  the  richest  jewel  in  the  royal  treasury. 

When  the  owl,  who  was  dozing  in  a  comer,  heard 
of  this  proclamation,  he  rolled  his  large  eyes  and 
looked  more  mysterious  than  ever. 

"Allah  Achbar!"  exclaimed  he.  "Happy  the 
man  that  shall  effect  that  cure,  should  he  but  know 
what  to  choose  from  the  royal  treasury." 

"  What  mean  you,  most  reverend  owl  ?  "  said 
Ahmed. 

"  Hearken,  O  prince,  to  what  I  shall  relate.  We 
owls,  you  must  know,  are  a  learned  body,  and  much 
given  to  dark  and  dusty  research.  During  my  late 
prowling  at  night  about  the  domes  and  turrets  of 
Toledo,  I  discovered  a  college  of  antiquarian  owls, 
who  hold  their  meetings  in  a  great  vaulted  tower 
where  the  royal  treasure  is  deposited.  Here  they 
were  discussing  the  forms  and  inscriptions,  and  de 
signs  of  ancient  gems  and  jewels,  and  of  golden  and 
silver  vessels,  heaped  up  in  the  treasury,  the  fashion 
of  every  country  and  c.^e  :  but  mostly  they  were  in 
terested  about  certain  reliques  and  talismans,  that 
•have  remained  in  the  treasury  since  the  time  of 
Roderick  the  Goth.  Among  these,  was  a  box  of 
shittim  wood,  secured  by  bands  of  steel  of  oriental 
workmanship,  and  inscribed  with  mystic  characters 
known  only  to  the  learned  few.  This  box  and  its 


218  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

inscription  had  occupied  the  college  for  several  ses 
sions,  and  had  caused  much  long  and  grave  dispute. 
At  the  time  of  my  visit,  a  very  ancient  owl.  who  had 
recently  arrived  from  Egypt,  was  seated  on  the  lid 
of  the  box  lecturing  upon  the  inscription,  and  proved 
from  it,  that  the  coffer  contained  the  silken  carpet  of 
the  throne  of  Solomon  the  wise  :  which  doubtless 
had  been  brought  to  Toledo  by  the  Jews,  who  took 
refuge  there  after  the  downfall  of  Jerusalem." 

When  the  owl  had  concluded  his  antiquarian 
harangue,  the  prince  remained  for  a  time  absorbed 
in  thought.  "  I  have  heard,"  said  he,  "  from  the 
sage  Ebon  Bonabbon,  of  the  wonderful  properties  of 
that  talisman,  which  disappeared  at  the  fall  of  Jeru 
salem;  and  was  supposed  to  be  lost  to  mankind. 
Doubtless  it  remains  a  sealed  mystery  to  the  Chris 
tians  of  Toledo.  If  I  can  get  possession  of  that 
carpet,  my  fortune  is  secure." 

The  next  clay  the  prince  laid  aside  his  rich  attire, 
and  arrayed  himself  in  the  simple  garb  of  an  Arab 
of  the  desert.  He  dyed  his  complexion  to  a  tawny 
hue,  and  no  one  could  have  recognized  in  him  the 
splendid  warrior  who  had  caused  such  admiration 
and  dismay  at  the  tournament.  With  staff  in  hand 
and  scrip  by  his  side,  and  a  small  pastoral  reed,  he 
repaired  to  Toledo,  and  presenting  himself  at  the 
gate  of  the  royal  palace,  announced  himself  as  a 
candidate  for  the  reward  offered  for  the  cure  of  the 
princess.  The  guards  would  have  driven  him  away 
with  blows:  "  What  can  a  vagrant  Arab  like  thyself 
pretend  to  do,"  said  they,  "in  a  case  where  the 
most  learned  of  the  land  have  failed  ?  "  The  king, 
however,  overheard  the  tumult,  and  ordered  the  Arab 
to  be  brought  into  his  presence. 

"Most  potent  king,"  said  Ahmed,  "you  behold 
before  you  a  Bedouin  Arab,  the  greater  part  of 
whose  life  has  been  passed  in  the  solitudes  of  the 
desert.  Those  solitudes,  it  is  weil  known,  are  the 


THE  PILGRIM  OF  LOVE.  219 

haunts  of  demons  and  evil  spirits,  who  beset  us  poor 
shepherds  in  our  lonely  watchings,  enter  into  and 
possess  our  flocks  and  herds,  and  sometimes  render 
even  the  patient  camel  furious.  Against  these,  our 
countercharm  is  music  ;  and  we  have  legendary  airs 
handed  down  from  generation  to  generation,  that  we 
chant  and  pipe  to  cast  forth  these  evil  spirits.  I  am 
of  a  gifted  line,  and  possess  this  power  in  its  fullest 
force.  If  it  be  any  evil  influence  of  the  kind  that 
holds  a  spell  over  thy  daughter,  I  pledge  my  head  to 
free  her  from  its  sway." 

The  king,  who  was  a  man  of  understanding,  and 
knew  the  wonderful  secrets  possessed  by  the  Arabs, 
was  inspired  with  hope  by  the  confident  language  of 
the  prince.  He  conducted  him  immediately  to  the 
lofty  tower  secured  by  several  doors,  in  the  summit 
of  which  was  the  chamber  of  the  princess.  The 
windows  opened  upon  a  terrace  with  balustrades, 
commanding  a  view  over  Toledo  and  all  the  sur 
rounding  country.  The  windows  were  darkened, 
for  the  princess  lay  within,  a  prey  to  a  devouring 
grief  that  refused  all  alleviation. 

The  prince  seated  himself  on  the  terrace,  and  per 
formed  several  wild  Arabian  airs  on  his  pastoral 
pipe,  which  he  had  learnt  from  his  attendants  in  the 
Generaliffe  at  Granada.  The  princess  continued  in 
sensible,  and  the  doctors,  who  were  present,  shook 
their  heads,  and  smiled  with  incredibility  and  con 
tempt.  At  length  the  prince  laid  aside  the  reed, 
and,  to  a  simple  melody,  chanted  the  amatory  verses 
of  the  letter  which  had  declared  his  passion. 

The  princess  recognized  the  strain.  A  fluttering 
joy  stole  to  her  heart ;  she  raised  her  head  and  lis 
tened  ;  tears  rushed  to  her  eyes  and  streamed  down 
her  cheeks ;  her  bosom  rose  and  fell  with  a  tumult 
of  emotions.  She  would  have  asked  for  the  minstrel 
to  be  brought  into  her  presence,  but  maiden  coyness 
held  her  silent.  The  king  read  her  wishes,  and  at 


220  THE  ALHAMBKA. 

his  command  Ahmed  was  conducted  into  the  cham 
ber.  The  lovers  were  discreet :  they  but  exchanged 
glances,  yet  those  glances  spoke  volumes.  Never 
was  triumph  of  music  more  complete.  The  rose 
had  returned  to  the  soft  cheek  of  the  princess,  the 
freshness  to  her  lip,  and  the  dewy  light  to  her  lan 
guishing  eye. 

All  the  physicians  present  stared  at  each  other 
with  astonishment.  Tne  king  regarded  the  Arab 
minstrel  with  admiration,  mixt  with  awe.  "  Won 
derful  youth,"  exclaimed  he,  "  thou  shalt  henceforth 
be  the  first  physician  of  my  court,  and  no  other  pre 
scription  will  I  take  but  thy  melody.  For  the  pres 
ent,  receive  thy  reward,  the  most  precious  jewel  in 
my  treasury." 

"  O  king,"  replied  Ahmed,  "  I  care  not  for  silver, 
or  gold,  or  precious  stones.  One  relique  hast  thou 
in  thy  treasury,  handed  down  from  the  Moslems  who 
once  owned  Toledo.  A  box  of  sandal  wood  contain 
ing  a  silken  carpet.  Give  me  that  box,  and  I  am 
content." 

All  present  were  surprised  at  the  moderation  of 
the  Arab  ;  and  still  more,  when  the  box  of  sandal 
wood  was  brought  and  the  carpet  drawn  forth.  It 
was  of  fine  green  silk,  covered  with  Hebrew  and 
Chaldaic  characters.  The  court  physicians  looked 
at  each  other,  shrugged  their  shoulders,  and  smiled 
at  the  simplicity  of  this  new  practitioner,  who  could 
be  content  with  so  paltry  a  fee. 

"This  carpet,"  said  the  prince,  "once  covered 
the  throne  of  Solomon  the  wise  ;  it  is  worthy  of  be 
ing  placed  beneath  the  feet  of  beauty." 

So  saying,  he  spread  it  on  the  terrace  beneath  an 
ottoman  that  had  been  brought  forth  for  the  prin 
cess  ;  then  seating  himself  at  her  feet, — 

"  Who,"  said  he,  "  shall  counteract  what  is  writ 
ten  in  the  book  of  fate?  Behold  the  prediction  of 
the  astrologers  verified.  Know,  oh  king,  that  your 


THE  PILGRIM  OF  LOVE.  221 

daughter  and  I  have  long  loved  each  other  in  secret. 
Behold  in  me  the  pilgrim  of  love." 

These  words  were  scarcely  from  his  lips,  when  the 
carpet  rose  in  the  air,  bearing  off  the  prince  and 
princess.  The  king  and  the  physicians  gazed  after 
it  with  open  mouths  and  straining  eyes,  until  it  be 
came  a  little  speck  on  the  white  bonom  of  a  cloud, 
and  then  disappeared  in  the  blue  vault  of  heaven. 

The  king  in  a  rage  summoned  his  treasurer. 
"  How  is  this,"  said  he,  "  that  thou  hast  suffered  an 
infidel  to  get  possession  of  such  a  talisman  ?  " 

"  Alas  !  sire,  we  knew  not  its  nature,  nor  could  we 
decipher  the  inscription  of  the  box.  If  it  be  indeed 
the  carpet  of  the  throne  of  the  wise  Solomon,  it  is 
possessed  of  magic  power,  and  can  transport  its 
owner  from  place  to  place  through  the  air." 

The  king  assembled  a  mighty  army,  and  set  off  for 
Granada  in  pursuit  of  the  fugitives.  His  march  was 
long  and  toilsome.  Encamping  in  the  Vega,  he  sent 
a  herald  to  demand  restitution  of  his  daughter.  The 
king  himself  came  forth  with  all  his  court  to  meet 
him.  In  the  king,  he  beheld  the  Arab  minstrel,  for  Ah 
med  had  succeeded  to  the  throne  on  the  death  of  his 
father,  and  the  beautiful  Aldegonda  was  bis  Sultana. 

The  Christian  king  was  easily  pacified,  when  he 
found  that  his  daughter  was  suffered  to  continue  in 
her  faith  :  not  that  he  was  particularly  pious ;  but 
religion  is  always  a  point  of  pride  and  etiquette  with 
princes.  Instead  of  bloody  battles,  there  was  a  suc 
cession  of  feasts  and  rejoicings  ;  after  which,  the  king 
returned  well  pleased  to  Toledo,  and  the  youthful 
couple  continued  to  reign  as  happily  as  wisely,  in  the 
Alhambra. 

It  is  proper  to  add,  that  the  owl  and  the  parrot 
had  severally  followed  the  prince  by  easy  stages  to 
Granada :  the  former  travelling  by  night,  and  stop 
ping  at  the  various  hereditary  possessions  of  his 
family ;  the  latter  figuring  in  the  gay  circles  of  every 
town  and  city  on  his  route. 


223  THE  ALHAMBRA 

Ahmed  gratefully  requited  the  services  which  they 
had  rendered  him  on  his  pilgrimage.  He  appointed 
the  owl  his  prime  minister ;  the  parrot  his  master  of 
ceremonies.  It  is  needless  to  say,  that  never  was  a 
realm  more  sagely  administered,  or  a  court  con 
ducted  with  more  exact  punctilio. 


LEGEND  OF  THE  ROSE 
OF  THE  ALHAMBRA; 

"Or  the  Page  and  the  Ger-Falcon." 

FOR  some  time  after  the  surrender  of  Granada  by 
the  Moors,  that  delightful  city  was  a  frequent  and 
favourite  residence  of  the  Spanish  sovereigns,  until 
they  were  frightened  away  by  successive  shocks  of 
earthquakes,  which  toppled  clown  various  houses  and 
made  the  old  Moslem  towers  rock  to  their  founda 
tion. 

Many,  many  years  then  rolled  away,  during-  which 
Granada  was  rarely  honoured  by  a  royal  guest.  The 
palaces  of  the  nobility  remained  silent  and  shut  up  ; 
and  the  Alhambra,  like  a  slighted  beauty,  sat  in 
mournful  desolation  among  her  neglected  gardens. 
The  tower  of  the  Infantas,  once  the  residence  of  the 
three  beautiful  Moorish  princesses,  partook  of  the 
general  desolation  ;  and  the  spider  spun  her  web 
athwart  the  gilded  vault,  and  bats  and  owls  nestled 
in  those  chambers  that  had  been  graced  by  the  pres 
ence  of  Zayda,  Zorayda,  and  Zorahayda.  The  ne 
glect  of  the  tower  may  partly  have  been  owing  to 
some  superstitious  notions  of  the  neighbours.  It 
was  rumoured  that  the  spirit  of  the  youthful  Zora 
hayda,  who  had  perished  in  that  tower,  was  often 
seen  by  moonlight  seated  beside  the  fountain  in  the 
hall,  or  moaning  about  the  battlements,  and  that  the 
notes  of  her  silver  lute  would  be  heard  at  midnight 
by  \v;i\f.ircrs  passing  along  the  glen. 


224  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

At  length,  the  city  of  Granada  was  once  more  en 
livened  by  the  royal  presence.  All  the  world  knows 
that  Philip  V.  was  the  first  Bourbon  that  swayed  the 
Spanish  sceptre.  All  the  world  knows  that  he  mar 
ried,  in  second  nuptials,  Elizabetta  or  Isabella,  (for 
they  are  the  same,)  the  beautiful  princess  of  Parma  ; 
and  all  the  world  knows,  that  by  this  chain  of  con 
tingencies,  a  French  prince  and  an  Italian  princess 
were  seated  together  on  the  Spanish  throne.  For 
the  reception  of  this  illustrious  pair,  the  Alhambra 
was  repaired  and  fitted  up  with  all  possible  expedi 
tion.  The  arrival  of  the  court  changed  the  whole 
aspect  of  the  lately  deserted  place.  The  clangour 
of  drum  and  trumpet,' th«  tramp  of  steed  about  the 
avenues  and  outer  court,  the  glittei  of  arms  and  dis 
play  of  banners  about  barbican  and  battlement,  re 
called  the  ancient  and  walike  glories  of  the  fortress. 
A  softer  spirit,  however,  reigned  within  the  royal 
palace.  There  was  the  rustling  of  robes,  and  the  cau 
tious  trend  and  murmuring  voice  of  reverential 
courtiers  about  the  antechambers;  a  loitering  of 
pages  and  maids  of  honour  about  the  gardens,  and 
•the  sound  of  music  stealing  from  open  casements. 

Among  those  who  attended  in  the  train  of  the 
monarchs,  was  a  favourite  page  of  the  queen,  named 
Ruyz  de  Alarcon.  To  say  that  he  was  a  favourite 
page  of  the  queen,  was  at  once  to  speak  his  eulogium, 
for  every  one  in  the  suite  of  the  stately  Elizabetta 
was  chosen  for  grace,  and  beauty,  and  accomplish 
ments.  He  was  just  turned  of  eighteen,  light  and 
little  of  form,  and  graceful  as  a  young  Antinous.  To 
the  queen,  he  was  all  deference  and  respect,  yet  he 
was  at  heart  a  roguish  stripling,  petted  and  spoiled 
by  the  ladies  about  the  court,  and  experienced  in  the 
ways  of  women  far  beyond  his  years. 

This  loitering  page  was  one  morning  rambling 
about  the  groves  of  the  Generalise,  which  overlook 
the  grounds  of  the  Alhambra.  He  had  taken  with 


THE  ROSE  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA.    225 

him  for  his  amusement,  a  favourite  ger-falcon  of  the 
queen.  In  the  course  of  his  rambles,  seeing  a  bird 
rising  from  a  thicket,  he  unhooded  the  hawk  and  let 
him  fly.  The  falcon  towered  high  in  the  air,  made 
a  swoop  at  his  quarry,  but  missing  it,  soared  away 
regardless  of  the  calls  of  the  page.  The  latter  fol 
lowed  the  truant  bird  with  his  eye  in  its  capricious 
flight,  until  he  saw  it  alight  upon  the  battlements  of 
a  remote  and  lonely  tower,  in  the  outer  wall  of  the 
Alhambra,  built  on  the  edge  of  a  ravine  that  sepa 
rated  the  royal  fortress  from  the  grounds  of  the 
Generaliffe.  It  was,  in  fact,  the  "  tower  of  the  Prin 
cesses." 

The  page  descended  into  the  ravine,  and  approach 
ed  the  tower,  but  it  had  no  entrance  from  the  glen, 
and  its  lofty  height  rendered  any  attempt  to  scale  it 
fruitless.  Seeking  one  of  the  gates  of  the  fortress, 
therefore,  he  made  a  wide  circuit  to  that  side  of  the 
tower  facing  within  the  walls.  A  small  garden  en 
closed  by  a  trellis-work  of  reeds  overhung  with  myrtle 
lay  before  the  tower.  Opening  a  wicket,  the  page 
passed  between  beds  of  flowers  and  thickets  of  roses 
to  the  door.  It  was  closed  and  bolted.  A  crevice 
in  the  door  gave  him  a  peep  into  the  interior.  There 
was  a  small  Moorish  hall,  with  fretted  walls,  light 
marble  columns,  and  an  alabaster  fountain  surround 
ed  with  flowers.  In  the  centre  hung  a  gilt  cage  con 
taining  a  singing  bird  ;  beneath  it,  on  a  chair,  lay  a 
tortoise-shell  cat  among  reels  of  silk  and  other 
articles  of  female  labour,  and  a  guitar,  decorated 
with  ribands,  leaned  against  the  fountain. 

Ruyz  de  Alarcon  was  struck  with  these  traces  of 
female  taste  and  elegance  in  a  lonely,  and,  as  he  had 
supposed,  deserted  tower.  They  reminded  him  of 
the  tales  of  enchanted  -halls,  current  in  the  Alham 
bra  ;  and  the  tortoise-shell  cat  might  be  some  spell 
bound  princess. 

He  knocked  gently  at  the  door, — a  beautiful  face 


320  THE  ALHAMBEA. 

peeped  out  from  a  little  window  above,  but  was  in 
stantly  withdrawn.  He  waited,  expecting  that  the 
door  would  be  opened ;  but  he  waited  in,  vain :  no 
footstep  was  fo  be  heard  within,  all  was  silent.  Had 
his  senses  deceived  him,  or  was  this  beautiful  ap 
parition  the  fairy  of  the  tower?  He  knocked  again, 
and  more  loudly.  After  a  little  while,  the  beaming 
face  once  more  peeped  forth  :  it  was  that  of  a  bloom 
ing  damsel  of  fifteen. 

The  page  immediately  doffed  his  plumed  bonnet, 
and  entreated  in  the  most  courteous  accents  to  be 
permitted  to  ascend  the  tower  in  pursuit  of  his 
falcon. 

"I  dare  not  open  the  door,  Seiior,"  replied  the 
little  damsel,  blushing  ;  "  my  aunt  has  forbidden  it." 

"  I  do  beseech  you,  fair  maid  ;  it  is  the  favourite 
falcon  of  the  queen ;  I  dare  not  return  to  the  palace 
without  it." 

"Are  you,  then,  one  of  the  cavaliers  of  the 
court  ?  " 

"  I  am,  fair  maid  ;  but  I  shall  lose  the  queen's 
favour  and  my  place  if  I  lose  this  hawk." 

"  Santa  Maria  !  It  is  against  you  cavaliers  of  the 
court  that  my  aunt  has  charged  me  especially  to  bar 
the  door." 

"  Against  wicked  cavaliers,  doubtless ;  but  I  am 
none  of  those,  but  a  simple,  harmless  page,  who  will 
be  ruined  and  undone  if  you  deny  me  this  small  re 
quest." 

The  heart  of  the  little  damsel  was  touched  by 
the  distress  of  the  page.  It  was  a  thousand  pities 
nt  should  be  ruined  for  the  want  of  so  trifling  a  boon. 
Surely,  too,  he  could  not  be  one  of  those  dangerous 
beings  whom  her  aunt  had  described  as  a  species  of 
cannibal,  ever  on  the  prowl  to  make  prey  of  thought 
less  damsels  ;  he  was  gentle  and  modest,  and  stood 
so  entreatingly  with  cap  in  hand,  and  looked  so 
charming.  The  sly  p;ige  saw  that  the  garrison 


THE  'ROSE  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA.    227 

began  to  waver,  and  redoubled  his  entreaties  in  such 
moving  terms,  that  it  was  not  in  the  nature  of  mortal 
maiden  to  deny  him  ;  so,  the  blushing  little  warder 
of  the  tower  descended  and  opened  the  door  with  a 
trembling  hand  ;  and  if  the  page  had  been  charmed 
by  a  mere  glimpse  of  her  countenance  from  the  win 
dow,  he  was  ravished  by  the  full-length  portrait  now 
revealed  to  him. 

Her  Andalusian  bodice  and  trim  basquina  set 
off  the  round  but  delicate  symmetry  of  her  form, 
which  was  as  yet  scarce  verging  into  womanhood. 
Her  glossy  hair  was  parted  on  her  forehead  with 
scrupulous  exactness,  and  decorated  with  a  fresh 
plucked  rose,  according  to  the  universal  custom  of 
the  country. 

It  is  true,  her  complexion  was  tinged  by  the 
nidour  of  a  southern  sun,  but  it  served  to  give  rich 
ness  to  the  mantling  bloom  of  her  cheek,  and  to 
heighten  the  lustre  of  her  melting  eyes. 

Ruyz  de  Alarcon  beheld  all  this  with  a  single 
glance,  for  it  became  him  not  to  tarry;  he  merely 
murmured  his  acknowledgments,  and  then  bounded 
lightly  up  the  spiral  staircase  in  quest  of  his  falcon. 
He  soon  returned  with  the  truant  bird  upon  his  fist. 
The  damsel,  in  the  mean  time,  had  seated  herself 
by  the  fountain  in  the  hall,  and  was  winding  silk  ; 
but  in  her  agitation  she  let  fall  the  reel  upon  the 
pavement.  The  page  sprang,  picked  it  up,  then 
dropping  gracefully  on  one  knee,  presented  it  to 
her,  but,  seizing  the  hand  extended  to  receive  it, 
imprinted  on  it  a  kiss  more  fervent  and  devout 
than  he  had  ever  imprinted  on  the  fair  hand  of  his 
sovereign. 

"  Ave  Maria!  Sefior ! "  exclaimed  the  damsel, 
blushing  still  deeper  with  confusion  and  surprise, 
for  never  before  had  she  received  such  a  salutation. 

The  modest  page  made  a  thousand  apologies,  as 
suring  her  it  was  the  way,  at  court,  of  expressing  the 
most  profound  homage  and  respect. 


838  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

Her  anger,  if  anger  she  felt,  was  easily  pacined ; 
but  her  agitation  and  embarrassment  continued,  and 
she  sat  blushing  deeper  and  deeper,  with  her  eyes 
cast  down  upon  her  work,  entangling  the  silk  which 
she  attempted  to  wind. 

The  cunning  page  saw  the  confusion  in  the  op 
posite  camp,  and  would  fain  have  profited  by  it, 
but  the  fine  speeches  he  would  have  uttered  died 
upon  his  lips  ;  his  attempts  at  gallantry  were  awk 
ward  and  ineffectual;  and,  to  his  surprise,  the 
adroit  page  who  had  figured  with  such  grace 
and  effrontery  among  the  most  knowing  and  ex 
perienced  ladies  of  the  court,  found  himself  awed 
and  abashed  in  the  presence  of  a  simple  damsel  of 
fifteen. 

In  fact,  the  artless  maiden,  in  her  own  modesty 
and  innocence,  had  guardians  more  effectual  than 
the  bolts  and  bars  prescribed  by  her  vigilant  aunt. 
Still,  where  is  the  female  bosom  proof  against  the 
first  whisperings  of  love  ?  The  little  damsel,  with 
all  her  artlessness,  instinctively  comprehended  all 
that  the  faltering  tongue  of  the  page  failed  to  ex 
press,  and  her  heart  was  fluttered  at  beholding, 
for  the  first  time,  a  lover  at  her  feet— and  such  a 
•over ! 

The  diffidence  of  the  page,  though  genuine,  was 
short-lived,  and  he  was  recovering  his  usual  ease 
and  confidence,  when  a  shrill  voice  was  heard  at  a 
distance. 

"  My  aunt  is  returning  from  mass !  cried  the 
damsel  in  affright.  "  I  pray  you,  Senor,  depart." 

"  Not  until  you  grant  me  that  rose  from  your  hair 
as  a  remembrance." 

She  hastily  untwisted  the  rose  from  her  raven 
locks.  "  Take  it,"  cried  she,  agitated  and  blushing 
"  but  pray  begone." 

The  page  took  the  rose,  and  at  the  same  time 
covered  with  kisses  the  fair  hand  that  gave  it, 


THE  ROSE  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA.    229 

Then  placing  the  flower  in  his  bonnet,  and  taking 
the  falcon  upon  his  fist,  he  bounded  off  through  the 
garden,  bearing  away  with  him  the  heart  of  the  gen 
tle  Jacinta. 

When  the  vigilant  aunt  arrived  at  the  tower, 
she  remarked  the  agitation  of  her  niece,  and  an  air 
of  confusion  in  the  hall ;  but  a  word  of  explanation 
sufficed.  "  A  ger-falcon  had  pursued  his  prey  into 
the  hall." 

"  Mercy  on  us !  To  think  of  a  falcon  flying  into  the 
tower.  Did  ever  one  hear  of  so  saucy  a  hawk  ?  Why, 
the  very  bird  in  the  cage  is  not  safe." 

The  vigilant  Fredegonda  was  one  of  the  most 
wary  of  ancient  spinsters.  She  had  a  becoming  ter 
ror  and  distrust  of  what  she  denominated  "  the  op 
posite  sex,"  which  had  gradually  increased  through 
a  long  life  of  celibacy.  Not  that  the  good  lady  had 
ever  suffered  from  their  wiles  ;  nature  having  set  up 
a  safeguard  in  her  face,  that  forbade  all  trespass 
upon  her  premises  ;  but  ladies  who  have  least  cause 
to  fear  for  themselves,  are  most  ready  to  keep  a 
watch  over  their  more  tempting  neighbours.  The 
niece  was  the  orphan  of  an  officer  who  had  fallen 
in  the  wars.  She  had  been  educated  in  a  convent, 
and  had  recently  been  transferred  from  her  sacred 
asylum  to  the  immediate  guardianship  of  her  aunt ; 
under  whose  overshadowing  care  she  vegetated  in 
obscurity,  like  an  opening  rose  blooming  beneath  a 
briar.  Nor,  indeed,  is  this  comparison  entirely 
accidental,  for  to  tell  the  truth  her  fresh  and  dawn- 
ing  beauty  had  caught  the  public  eye,  even  in  her 
seclusion,  and,  with  that  poetical  turn  common  to 
the  people  of  Andalusia,  the  peasantry  of  the  neigh 
bourhood  had  given  her  the  appellation  of  "  The 
Rose  of  the  Alhambra." 

The  wary  aunt  continued  to  keep  a  faithful  watch 
over  her  tempting  little  niece  as  long  as  the  court 
continued  at  Granada,  and  flattered  herself  that  her 


230  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

vigilance  had  been  successful.  It  is  true,  the  good 
lady  was  now  and  then  discomposed  by  the  tinkling 
of  guitars,  and  chanting  of  love  ditties  from  the 
moonlit  groves  beneath  the  tower,  but  she  would 
exhort  her  niece  to  shut  her  ears  against  such  idle 
minstrelsy,  assuring  her  that  it  was  one  of  the  arts 
of  the  opposite  sex,  by  which  simple  maids  were 
often  lured  to  their  undoing  ; — alas,  what  chance 
with  a  simple  maid  has  a  dry  lecture  against  a  moon 
light  serenade  ! 

At  length  king  Philip  cut  short  his  sojourn  at 
Granada,  and  suddenly  departed  with  all  his  train. 
The  vigilant  Fredegonda  watched  the  royal  pageant 
as  it  issued  forth  from  the  gate  of  Justice,  and  de 
scended  the  great  avenue  leading  to  the  city.  When 
the  last  banner  disappeared  from  her  sight,  she  re 
turned  exulting  •  to  her  tower,  for  all  her  cares  were 
over.  To  her  surprise,  a  light  Arabian  steed  pawed 
the  ground  at  the  wicket  gate  of  the  garden, — to  her 
horror  she  saw  through  the  thickets  of  roses,  a 
youth,  in  gaily  embroidered  dress,  at  the  feet  of  her 
niece.  At  the  sound  of  her  footsteps  he  g?ve  a  ttn- 
der  adieu,  bounded  lightly  over  the  barrier  of  reeds 
and  myrtles,  sprang  upon  his  horse,  and  was  out  of 
sight  in  an  instant. 

The  tender  Jacinta  in  the  agony  of  her  grief  lost 
all  thought  of  her  aunt's  displeasure.  Throwing  her 
self  into  her  arms,  she  broke  forth  into  sobs  and  tears, 

"Ay  di  mi !  "  cried  she,  "  he  is  gone  !  he  is  gone  ! 
and  I  shall  never  see  him  more." 

"  Gone  !  who  is  gone  !  what  youth  is  this  I  saw  at 
your  feet  ?  " 

"A  queen's  page,  aunt,  who  came  to  bid  me  fare 
well." 

"A  queen's  page,  child,"  echoed  the  vigilant  Fre 
degonda  faintly,  "  and  when  did  you  become  ac 
quainted  with  a  queen's  page?  " 

"  The  morning  that  the  ger-falcon  flew  into  the 


THE  ROSE  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA.    231 

tower.  It  was  the  queen's  ger-falcon,  and  he  came 
in  pursuit  of  it." 

"  Ah,  silly,  silly  girl !  know  that  there  are  no  ger 
falcons  half  so  dangerous  as  these  prankling  pages, 
and  it  is  precisely  such  simple  birds  as  thee  that  they 
pounce  upon." 

The  aunt  was  at  first  indignant  at  learning  that, 
in  despite  of  her  boasted  vigilance,  a  tender  inter^ 
course  had  been  carried  on  by  the  youthful  lovers, 
almost  beneath  her  eye ;  but  when  she  found  that 
her  simple-hearted  niece,  though  thus  exposed,  with 
out  the  protection  of  bolt  or  bar,  to  all  the  machina 
tions  of  the  opposite  sex,  had  come  forth  unsinged 
from  the  fiery  ordeal,  she  consoled  herself  with  the 
persuasion  that  it  was  owing  to  the  chaste  and  cau 
tious  maxims  in  which  she  had,  as  it  were,  steeped 
her  to  the  very  lips. 

While  the  aunt  laid  this  soothing  unction  to  her 
pride,  the  niece  treasured  up  the  oft-repeated  vows 
of  fidelity  of  the  page.  But  what  is  the  love  of 
restless,  roving  man  ?  a  vagrant  stream  that  dallies 
for  a  time  with  each  flower  upon  its  banks,  then 
passes  on  and  leaves  them  all  in  tears. 

Days,  weeks,  months  elapsed,  and  nothing  more 
was  heard  of  the  page.  The  pomegranate  ripened, 
the  vine  yielded  up  its  fruit,  the  autumnal  rains  de 
scended  in  torrents  from  the  mountains  ;  the  Sierra 
Nevada  became  covered  with  a  snowy  mantle,  and 
wintry  blasts  howled  through  the  halls  of  the  Al- 
hambra :  still  he  came  not.  The  winter  passed 
away.  Again  the  genial  spring  burst  forth  with 
song,  and  blossoms,  and  balmy  zephyr  ;  the  snows 
melted  from  the  mountains,  until  none  remained,  but 
on  the  lofty  summit  of  the  Nevada,  glistening  through 
the  sultry  summer  air:  still  nothing  was  heard  of  the 
forgetful  page. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  poor  little  Jacinta  grew  pale 
and  thoughtful.  Her  former  occupations  and 


232  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

amusements  were  abandoned  ;  her  silk  lay  entangled, 
her  guitar  unstrung,  her  flowers  were  neglected,  the 
notes  of  her  bird  unheeded,  and  her  eyes,  once  so 
bright,  were  dimmed  with  secret  weeping.  If  any 
solitude  could  be  devised  to  foster  the  passion  of  a 
lovelorn  damsel,  it  would  be  such  a  place  as  the  Alham- 
bra,  where  every  thing  seems  disposed  to  produce 
tender  and  romantic  reveries.  It  is  a  very  Paradise 
for  lovers;  how  hard  then  to  be  alone  in  such  a 
Paradise ;  and  not  merely  alone,  but  forsaken. 

"Alas,  silly  child  !  "  would  the  staid  and  immacu 
late  Freclegonda  say,  when  she  found  her  niece  in 
one  of  her  desponding  moods,  "  did  I  not  warn 
thee  against  the  wiles  and  deceptions  of  these  men  ? 
What  couldst  thou  expect,  too,  from  one  of  a  haughty 
and  aspiring  family,  thou,  an  orphan,  the  descend 
ant  of  a  fallen  and  impoverished  line;  be  assured,  if 
the  youth  were  true,  his  father,  who  is  one  of  the 
proudest  nobles  about  the  court,  would  prohibit  his 
union  with  one  so  humble  and  portionless  as  thou. 
Pluck  up  thy  resolution,  therefore,  and  drive  these 
idle  notions  from  thy  mind." 

The  words  of  the  immaculate  Fredegonda  only 
served  to  increase  the  melancholy  of  her  niece,  but 
she  sought  to  indulge  it  in  private.  /At  a  late  hour 
one  midsummer  night,  after  her  aunt  had  retired  to 
rest,  she  remained  alone  in  the  hall  of  the  tower, 
seated  beside  the  alabaster  founta.n.  It  was  here 
that  the  faithless  page  had  first  knelt  and  kissed  her 
hand,  it  was  here  that  he  had  often  vowed  eternal 
fidelity.  The  poor  little  damsel's  heart  was  over 
laden  with  sad  and  tender  recollections,  her  tears 
began  to  flow,  and  slowly  fell,  drop  by  drop,  into  the 
fountain.  By  degrees  the  crystal  water  became  agi 
tated,  and,  bubble — bubble — bubble,  boiled  up,  and 
was  tossed  about  until  a  female  figure,  richly  clad  in 
Moorish  robes,  slowly  rose  to  view.  \ 

Jacinta  was  so  frightened,  that  she  fled  from  the 


THE  ROSE  OF  THE  ALHAVBRA.    ?33 

ball,  and  did  not  venture  to  return.  The  next 
morning,  she  related  what  she  had  seen  to  her  aunt, 
hut  the  good  lady  treated  it  as  a  fantasy  of  her 
troubled  mind,  or  supposed  she  had  fallen  asleep  and 
dreamt  beside  the  fountain.  "  Thou  hast  been  think 
ing  of  the  story  of  the  three  Moorish  princesses  that 
once  inhabited  the  tower,"  continued  she,  "  and  it 
has  entered  into  thy  dreams." 

"  What  story,  aunt  ?     I  know  nothing  of  it." 

"  Thou  hast  certainly  heard  of  the  three  prin 
cesses,  Zayda,  Zorayda,  and  Zorahayda,  who  were 
confined  in  this  tower  by  the  king  their  father,  and 
agreed  to  fly  with  three  Christian  cavaliers.  The 
first  two  accomplished  their  escape,  but  the  third 
failed  in  resolution  and  remained,  and  it  is  said  died 
in  this  tower." 

"  I  now  recollect  to  have  heard  of  it,"  said  Jacinta 
"  and  to  have  wept  over  the  fate  of  the  gentle  Zora 
hayda." 

•'  Thou  mayst  well  weep  over  her  fate/'  continued 
the  aunt,  "  for  the  lover  of  Zorahayda  was  thy  an 
cestor.  He  long  bemoaned  his  Moorish  love,  but 
time  cured  him  of  his  grief,  and  he  married  a  Span 
ish  lady,  from  whom  thou  art  descended" 

Jacinta  ruminated  upon  these  words.  "  That 
what  I  have  seen  is  no  fantasy  of  the  brain,"  said  she 
to  herself,  "  I  am  confident.  If  indeed  it  be  the 
sprite  of  the  gentle  Zorahayda,  which  I  have  heard 
lingers  about  this  tower,  of  what  should  I  be  afraid  ? 
I'll  watch  by  the  fountain  to-night,  perhaps  the  visit 
will  be  repeated." 

Towards  midnight,  when  every  thing  was  quiet, 
she  again  took  her  seat  in  the  hall.  As  the  bell  on 
the  distant  watch-tower  of  the  Alhambra  struck  the 
midnight  hour,  the  fountain  was  again  agitated,  and 
bubble — bubble — bubble,  it  tossed  about  the  waters 
until  the  Moorish  female  again  rose  to  view.  She 
was  young  and  beautiful ;  her  dress  was  rich  with 


234  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

jewels,  and  in  her  hand  she  held  a  silver  lute.  Jacinta 
trembled  and  was  faint,  but  was  reassured  by  the 
soft  and  plaintive  voice  ol  the  apparition,  and  the 
sweet  expression  of  her  pale  melancholy  counte 
nance. 

"  Daughter  of  Mortality,"  said  she,  "  what  aileth 
thee?  Why  do  thy  tears  trouble  my  fountain,  and 
thy  sighs  and  plaints  disturb  the  quiet  watches  of 
the  night  ?  " 

44 1  weep  because  of  the  faithlessness  of  man  ;  and 
I  bemoan  my  solitary  and  forsaken  state." 

44  Take  comfort,  thy  sorrows  may  yet  have  an  end, 
Thou  beholdest  a  Moorish  princess,  who,  like  thee, 
was  unhappy  in  her  love.  A  Christian  knight,  thy 
ancestor,  won  my  heart,  and  would  have  borne  me 
to  his  native  land,  and  to  the  bosom  of  his  church. 
I  was  a  convert  in  my  heart,  but  I  lacked  courage 
equal  to  my  faith,  and  lingered  till  too  late.  For 
this,  the  evil  genii  are  permitted  to  have  power  over 
me,  and  I  remain  enchanted  in  this  tower,  until 
some  pure  Christian  will  deign  to  break  the  magic 
spell.  Wilt  thou  undertake  the  task?  " 

44  I  will !  "  replied  the  damsel,  trembling. 

44  Come  hither,  then,  and  fear  not :  dip  thy  hand 
in  the  fountain,  sprinkle  the  water  over  me,  and  bap 
tize  me  alter  the  manner  of  thy  faith;  so  shall  the 
enchantment  be  dispelled,  and  my  troubled  spirit 
have  repose." 

The  damsel  advanced  >vith  faltering  steps,  dipped 
her  hand  in  the  fountain,  collected  water  in  the  palm, 
and  sprinkled  it  over  the  pale  face  of  the  phantom. 

The  latter  smiled  with  ineffable  benignity.  She 
diopped  her  silver  lute  at  the  feet  of  Jacinta,  crossed 
her  white  arms  upon  her  bosom,  and  melted  from 
sight,  so  that  it  seemed  merely  as  if  a  shower  of 
dewdrops  had  fallen  into  the  fountain. 

Jacinta  retired  from  the  hall,  filled  with  awe  and 
wonder.  She  scarcely  closed  her  eyes  that  night, 


THE  ROSE  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA.    235 

but  when  she  awoke  at  daybreak  out  of  a  troubled 
slumber,  the  whole  appeared  to  her  like  a  distem 
pered  dream.  On  descending  into  the  hall,  how 
ever,  the  tr'th  of  the  vision  was  established;  for, 
beside  the  fountain  she  beheld  the  silver  lute  glitter 
ing  in  the  morning  sunshine.  ! 
"She  hastened  to  her  aunt,  related  all  that  had  be 
fallen  her,  and  called  her  to  behold  the  lute  as  a  tes 
timonial  of  the  reality  of  her  story.  If  the  good  lady 
had  any  lingering  doubts,  they  were  removed  when 
Jacinta  touched  the  instrument,  for  she  drew  forth 
such  ravishing  tones  as  to  thaw  even  the  frigid  bo 
som  of  the  immaculate  Fredegonda,  that  region  of 
eternal  winter,  into  a  genial  flow.  Nothing  but  su 
pernatural  melody  could  have  produced  such  an 
effect. 

The  extraordinary  power  of  the  lute  became  every 
day  more  and  more  apparent.  The  wayfarer  pass 
ing  by  the  tower  was  detained,  and,  as  it  were,  spell 
bound,  in  breathless  ecstasy.  The  very  birds  gath 
ered  in  the  neighbouring  trees,  and,  hushing  their 
own  strains,  listened  in  charmed  silence.  Rumour 
soon  spread  the  news  abroad.  The  inhabitants  of 
Granada  thronged  to  the  Alhambra,  to  catch  a  few 
notes  of  the  transcendent  music  that  floated  about 
the  tower  of  Las  Infantas. 

The  lovely  little  minstrel  was  at  length  drawn 
forth  from  her  retreat.  The  rich  and  powerful  of 
the  land  contended  who  should  entertain  and  do 
honour  to  her;  or  rather,  who  should  secure  the 
charms  of  her  lute,  to  draw  fashionable  throngs  to 
their  saloons.  Wherever  she  went,  her  vigilant  aunt 
kept  a  dragon-watch  at  her  elbow,  awing  the  throngs 
of  impassioned  admirers  who  hung  in  raptures  on 
her  strains.  The  report  of  her  wonderful  powers 
spread  from  city  to  city :  Malaga,  Seville,  Cordova, 
all  became  successively  mad  on  the  theme  ;  nothing 
was  talked  of  throughout  Andalusia,  but  the  beau- 


236  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

tiful  minstrel  of  the  Alhambra.  How  could  it  be 
otherwise  among  a  people  so  musical  and  gallant  as 
the  Andalusians,  when  the  lute  was  magical  in  its 
powers,  and  the  minstrel  inspired  by  love. 

While  all  Andalusia  was  thus  music-mad,  a  dif 
ferent  mood  prevailed  at  the  court  of  Spain.  Philip 
V.,  as  is  well  known,  was  a  miserable  hypochon 
driac,  and  subject  to  all  kinds  of  fancies.  Some 
times  he  would  keep  to  his  bed  for  weeks  together, 
groaning  under  imaginary  complaints.  At  other 
times  he  would  insist  upon  abdicating  his  throne, 
to  the  great  annoyance  of  his  royal  spouse,  who  had 
a  strong  relish  for  the  splendours  of  a  court  and  the 
glories  of  a  crown,  and  guided  the  sceptre  of  her 
imbecile  lord  with  an  expert  and  steady  hand. 

Nothing  was  found  to  be  so  efficacious  in  dispel 
ling  the  royal  megrims  as  the  powers  of  music ; 
the  queen  took  care,  therefore,  to  have  the  best  per 
formers,  both  vocal  and  instrumental,  at  hand,  and 
retained  the  famous  Italian  singer  Farinelli  about 
the  court  as  a  kind  of  royal  physician. 

At  the  moment  we  treat  of,  however,  a  freak  tod 
come  over  the  mind  of  this  sapient  and  illustrious 
Bcurbon,  that  surpassed  all  former  vagaries.  After 
a  long  spell  of  imaginary  illness,  which  set  all  the 
strains  of  Farinelli,  and  the  consult;,,  ens  of  a  whole 
orchestra  of  court  fiddlers,  at  defiance,  the  monarch 
fairly,  in  idea,  gave  up  the  ghost,  and  considered 
himself  absolutely  dead. 

This  would  have  been  harmless  enough,  and  even 
convenient  both  to  his  queen  and  courtiers,  had  he 
been  content  to  remain  in  the  quietude  befitting  a 
dead  man  ;  but,  to  their  annoyance,  he  insisted  upon 
having  the  funeral  ceremonies  performed  over  him  , 
and,  to  their  inexpressible  perplexity,  began  to  grow 
impatient,  and  to  revile  bitterly  at  them  for  negli 
gence  and  disrespect  in  leaving  him  unburied.  What 
was  to  be  done  ?  To  disobey  the  king's  positive 


THE  ROSE  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA.    237 

commands  was  monstrous  in  the  eyes  of  the  obse 
quious  courtiers  of  a  punctilious  court, — but  to  obey 
him,  and  bury  him  alive,  would  be  downrigth  regi 
cide  ! 

In  the  midst  of  this  fearful  dilemma,  a  rumour 
reached  the  court  of  the  female  minstrel,  who  was 
turning  the  brains  of  all  Andalusia.  The  queen 
despatched  missives  in  all  haste,  to  summon  her  to 
St.  Ildefonso,  where  the  court  at  that  time  resided. 

Within  a  few  days,  as  the  queen  with  her  maids 
of  honour  was  walking  in  those  stately  gardens,  in 
tended,  with  their  avenues,  and  terraces,  and  fount 
ains,  to  eclipse  the  glories  of  Versailles,  the  far- 
famed  minstrel  was  conducted  into  her  presence. 
The  imperial  Elizabetta  gazed  with  surprise  at  the 
vouthful  and  unpretending  appearance  of  the  little 
being  that  had  set  the  world  madding.  She  was  in 
her  picturesque  Anclalusian  dress ;  her  silver  lute 
was  in  her  hand,  and  she  stood  with  modest  and 
downcast  eyes,  but  with  a  simplicity  and  freshness 
of  beauty  that  still  bespoke  her  "  The  Rose  of  the 
Alhambra."  ^ 

As  usual,  she  was  accompanied  by  the  ever  vigi 
lant  Fredegonda,  who  gave  the  whole  history  of  her 
parentage  and  descent  to  the  inquiring  queen.  If 
the  stately  Elizabetta  had  been  interested  by  the  ap 
pearance  of  Jacinta,  she  was  still  more  pleased  when 
she  learnt  that  she  was  of  a  meritorious,  though  im 
poverished  line,  and  that  her  father  had  bravely  fallen 
in  the  service  of  the  crown.  "  If  thy  powers  equal 
their  renown,"  said  she,  "  and  thou  canst  cast  forth 
this  evil  spirit  that  possesses  thy  sovereign,  thy  for 
tune  shall  henceforth  be  my  care,  and  honours  and 
wealth  attend  thee." 

Impatient  to  make  trial  of  her  skill,  she  led  the 
way  at  once  to  the  apartment  of  the  moody  monarch.  ) 
Jacinta  followed  with  downcast  eyes  through  files  of 
guards  and  crowds  of  courtiers.     They  arrived  at 


238  THE  ALIIAMBRA. 

length  at  a  great  chamber  hung  in  black.  The  win 
dows  were  closed,  to  exclude  the  light  of  day;  a 
number  of  yellow  wax  tapers,  in  silver  sconces,  dif 
fused  a  lugubrious  light,  and  dimly  revealed  the  fig 
ures  of  mutes  in  mourning  dresses,  and  courtiers, 
who  glided  about  with  noiseless  step  and  woe-begone 
visage.  On  the  midst  of  a  funeral  bed  or  bier,  his 
hands  folded  on  his  breast,  and  the  tip  of  his  nose 
just  visible,  lay  extended  this  would-be-buried  mon 
arch. 

The  queen  entered  the  chamber  in  silence,  and, 
pointing  to  a  footstool  in  an  obscure  corner,  beck 
oned  to  Jacinta  to  sit  down  and  commence. 

At  first  she  touched  her  lute  with  a  faltering  hand, 
but  gathering  confidence  and  animation  as  she  pro 
ceeded,  drew  forth  such  soft,  aerial  harmony,  that 
all  present  could  scarce  believe  it  mortal.  As  to  the 
monarch,  who  had  already  considered  himself  in  the 
world  of  spirits,  he  set  it  down  for  some  angehc  mel 
ody,  or  the  music  of  the  spheres.  By  degrees  the 
theme  was  varied,  and  the  voice  of  the  minstrel  ac 
companied  the  instrument.  She  poured  forth  one 
of  the  legendary  ballads  treating  of  the  ancient  glo 
ries  of  the  Alhambra.  and  the  achievements  of  th< 
Moors.  Her  whole  soul  entered  into  the  theme,  for 
with  the  recollections  of  the  Alhambra  was  associ 
ated  the  story  of  her  love  ;  the  funereal  chamber  re 
sounded  with  the  animating  strain.  It  entered  into 
the  gloomy  heart  of  the  monarch.  He  raised  his 
head  and  gazed  around ;  he  sat  up  on  his  couch ; 
his  eye  began  to  kindle  ;  at  length,  leaping  upon  the 
floor,  he  called  for  sword  and  buckler. 

The  triumph  of  music,  or  rather  of  the  enchanted 
lute,  was  complete ;  the  demon  of  melancholy  was 
cast  forth  ;  and,  as  it  were,  a  dead  man  brought  to 
life.  The  windows  of  the  apartment  were  thrown 
open ;  the  glorious  effulgence  of  Spanish  sunshine 
burst  into  the  late  lugubrious  chamber;  all  eyes 


THE  ROXK  OP  Till:  ALHAMBHA.    239 

sought  the  lovely  enchantress,  but  the  lute  had  fallen 
from  her  hand  ;  she  had  sank  upon  the  earth,  and 
the  next  moment  was  clasped  to  the  bosom  of  Ruyz 
de  Alarcon. 

The  nuptials  of  the  happy  couple  were  shortly 
after  celebrated  with  great  splendour, — but  hold,  I 
hear  the  reader  ask  how  did  Ruyz  de  Alarcon  ac 
count  for  his  long  neglect  ?  Oh, — that  was  all  owing 
to  the  opposition  of  a  proud  pragmatical  old  father, — 
besides,  young  people,  who  really  like  one  another, 
soon  come  to  an  amicable  understanding,  and  bury 
all  past  grievances  whenever  they  meet. 

But  how  was  the  proud  pragmatical  old  father 
reconciled  to  the  match  ? 

Oh,  his  scruples  were  easily  overruled  by  a  word 
or  two  from  the  queen, — especially  as  dignities  and 
rewards  were  showered  upon  the  blooming  favour 
ite  of  royalty.  Besides,  the  lute  of  Jacinta,  you  know, 
possessed  a  magic  power,  and  could  control  the  most 
stubborn  head  and  hardest  heart. 

And  what  became  of  the  enchanted  lute  ? 

Oh,  that  is  the  most  curious  matter  of  all,  and 
plainly  proves  the  truth  of  all  the  story.  That  lute 
remained  for  some  time  in  the  family,  but  was  pur 
loined  and  carried  off,  as  was  supposed,  by  the  great 
singer  Farinelli,  in  pure  jealousy.  At  his  death  it 
passed  into  other  hands  in  Italy,  who  were  ignorant 
of  its  mystic  powers,  and  melting  down  the  silver, 
transferred  the  strings  to  an  old  Cremona  fiddle, 
The  strings  still  retain  something  of  their  magic  vir 
tues.  A  word  in  the  reader's  ear,  but  let  it  go  no 
further, — that  fiddle  is  now  bewitching  the  whole 
world, — it  is  the  fiddle  of  Paganini ! 


THE  VETERAN. 

AMONG  the  curious  acquaintances  I  have  made  |n 
my  rambles  about  the  fortress,  is  a  brave  and  bat 
tered  old  Colonel  of  Invalids,  who  is  nestled  like  a 
hawk  in  one  of  the  Moorish  towers.  His  history, 
which  he  is  fond  of  telling,  is  a  tissue  of  those  advent 
ures,  mishaps,  and  vicissitudes  that  render  the  life 
of  almost  every  Spaniard  of  note  as  varied  and 
whimsical  as  the  pages  of  Gil  Bias. 

He  was  in  America  at  twelve  years  of  age,  and 
reckons  among  the  most  signal  and  fortunate  events 
of  his  life,  his  having  seen  General  Washington. 
Since  then  he  has  taken  a  part  in  all  the  wars  of  his 
country  ;  he  can  speak  experimentally  of  most  of  the 
prisons  and  dungeons  of  the  Peninsula,  has  been 
lamed  of  one  leg,  crippled  in  his  hand,  and  so  cut  up 
and  carbonadoed,  that  he  is  a  kind  of  walking  monu 
ment  of  the  troubles  of  Spain,  on  which  there  is  a 
scar  for  every  battle  and  broil,  as  every  year  was 
notched  upon  the  tree  of  Robinson  Crusoe.  The 
greatest  misfortune  of  the  brave  old  cavalier,  how 
ever,  appears  to  have  been  his  having  commanded  at 
Malaga  during  a  time  of  peril  and  conft  sion,  ar,j 
been  made  a  general  by  the  inhabitants  to  protect 
them  from  the  invasion  of  the  French. 

This  has  entailed  upon  him  a  number  of  just 
claims  upon  government  that  I  fear  will  employ  him 
until  his  dying  day  in  writing  and  printing  petitions 
and  memorials,  to  the  great  disquiet  of  his  mind,  ex 
haustion  of  his  purse,  and  penance  of  his  friends; 
not  one  of  whom  can  visit  him  without  having  to 
listen  to  a  mortal  document  of  half  an  hour  iu 


THE  VETERAN  241 

length,  and  to  carry  avvny  Haifa  dozen  pamphlets  in 
his  pocket.  This,  however,  is  the  case  throughout 
Spain :  every  \vhere  you  meet  with  some  worthy 
wight  brooding  in  a  corner,  and  nursing  up  some 
pet  grievance  and  cherished  wrong.  Beside,  a 
Spaniard  who  has  a  lawsuit,  or  a  claim  upon  gov 
ernment,  may  be  considered  as  furnished  with  em 
ployment  for  the  remainder  of  his  life. 

I  visited  the  veteran  in  his  quarters  in  the  upper 
part  of  the  Terre  del  Vino,  or  Wine  Tower.  His 
room  was  small  but  snug,  and  commanded  a  beau 
tiful  view  of  the  Vega.  It  was  arranged  with  a  sol 
dier's  precision.  Three  muskets  and  a  brace  ot 
pistols,  all  bright  and  shining,  were  suspended 
against  the  wall,  with  a  sabre  and  a  cane  hanging 
side  by  side,  and  above  these  two  cocked  hats,  one 
for  parade,  and  one  for  ordinary  use.  A  small  shelf, 
containing  some  half  dozen  books,  formed  his  library, 
one  of  which,  a  little  old  mouldy  volume  of  philo 
sophical  maxims,  was  his  favourite  reading.  This 
he  thumbed  and  pondered  over  day  by  day  ;  apply 
ing  every  maxim  to  his  own  particular  case,  provided 
it  had  a  little  tinge  of  wholesome  bitterness,  and 
treated  of  the  injustice  of  the  world. 

Yet  he  is  social  and  kind-hearted,  and,  provided 
he  can  be  diverted  from  his  wrongs  and  his  philoso 
phy,  is  an  entertaining  companion.  I  like  these  old 
weather-beaten  sons  of  fortune,  and  enjoy  their 
rough  campaigning  anecdotes.  In  the  course  of  my 
visit  to  the  one  in  question,  I  learnt  some  curious 
facts  abo\jt  an  old  military  commander  of  the  for 
tress,  who  seems  to  have  resembled  him  in  some  re 
spects,  and  to  have  had  similar  fortunes  in  the  wars. 
These  particulars  have  been  augmented  by  inquiries 
among  some  of  the  old  inhabitants  of  the  place,  par 
ticularly  the  father  of  Mateo  Ximencs,  of  whose  tra 
ditional  stories  the  worthy  I  am  about  to  introduce 
to  the  reader  is  a  favourite  hero. 


THE  GOVERNOR 
AND    THE  NOTARY. 

IN  former  times  there  ruled,  as  governor  of  the 
Alhambra,  a  doughty  old  cavalier,  who,  from  having 
lost  one  arm  in  the  wars,  was  commonly  known  by 
the  name  of  El  Gobernador  Manco,  or  the  one- 
armed  governor.  He  in  fact  prided  himself  upon 
being  an  old  soldier,  wore  his  mustachios  curled  up 
to  his  eyes,  a  pair  of  campaigning  boots,  and  a  toledo 
as  long  as  a  spit,  with  his  pocket  handkerchief  in 
the  basket-hilt. 

He  was,  moreover,  exceedingly  proud  and  punctil 
ious,  and  tenacious  of  all  his  privileges  and  dignities. 
Under  his  sway,  the  immunities  of  the  Alhambra,  as 
a  royal  residence  and  domain,  were  rigidly  exacted. 
No  one  was  permitted  to  enter  the  fortress  with  fire 
arms,  or  even  with  a  sword  or  staff,  unless  he  were 
of  a  certain  rank,  and  every  horseman  was  obliged 
to  dismount  at  the  gate  and  lead  his  horse  by  the 
bridle.  Now,  as  the  hill  of  the  Alhambra  rises  from 
the  very  midst  of  the  city  of  Granada,  being,  as  it 
were,  an  excrescence  of  the  capital,  it  must  at  aU 
times  be  somewhat  irksome  to  the  captain-general 
who  commands  the  province,  to  have  thus  an  im- 
penum  in  imperio,  a  petty  independent  post,  in  the 
very  core  of  his  domains.  It  was  rendered  the  more 
galling  in  the  present  instance,  from  the  irritable 
jealousy  of  the  old  governor,  that  took  fire  on  the 
least  question  of  authority  and  jurisdiction,  and  from 
the  loose  vagrant  character  of  the  people  that  had 


THE  GOVERNOR  AND  THE  NOTARY.  243 

gradually  nestled  themselves  within  the  fortress  a-; 
in  a  sanctuary,  and  from  thence  carried  on  a  system 
of  roguery  and  depredation  at  the  expense  of  the 
honest  inhabitants  of  the  city.  Thus  there  was  a 
perpetual  feud  and  heart-burning  between  the  cap 
tain-general  and  the  governor ;  the  more  virulent  on 
the  part  of  the  latter,  inasmuch  as  the  smallest  of 
two  neighbouring  potentates  is  always  the  most 
captious  about  his  dignity.  The  stately  palace  of 
the  captain-general  stood  in  the  Plaza  Nueva,  im 
mediately  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  of  the  Alhambra, 
and  here  was  always  a  bustle  and  parade  of  guards, 
and  domestics,  and  city  functionaries.  A  beetling 
bastion  of  the  fortress  overlooked  the  palace  and  the 
public  square  in  front  of  it  ;  and  on  this  bastion  the 
old  governor  would  occasionally  strut  backwards 
and  forwards,  with  his  toledo  girded  by  his  side, 
keeping  a  wary  eye  down  upon  his  rival,  like  a 
hawk  reconnoitring  his  quarry  from  his  nest  in  a 
dry  tree. 

Whenever  he  descended  into  the  city,  it  was  in 
grand  parade,  on  horseback,  surrounded  by  his 
guards,  or  in  his  state  coach,  an  ancient  and  un 
wieldy  Spanish  edifice  of  carved  timber  and  gilt 
leather,  drawn  by  eight  mules,  with  running  foot 
men,  outriders,  and  lacqueys,  on  which  occasions 
he  flattered  himself  he  impressed  every  beholder 
with  awe  and  admiration  as  vicegerent  of  the  king, 
though  the  wits  of  Granada,  particularly  those  who 
loitered  about  the  palace  of  the  captain-general, 
were  apt  to  sneer  at  his  petty  parade,  and,  in  al 
lusion  to  the  vagrant  character  of  his  subjects,  to 
greet  him  with  the  appellation  of  "  the  King  of  the 
beggars." 

One  of  the  most  fruitful  sources  of  dispute  between 
these  two  doughty  rivals,  was  the  right  claimed  by 
the  governor  to  have  all  things  passed  free  of  duty 
through  the  city,  that  were  intended  for  the  use  of 


244  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

himself  or  his  garrison.  By  degrees,  this  privilege 
had  given  rise  to  extensive  smuggling.  A  nest  of 
contrabandistas  took  up  their  abode  in  the  hovels 
of  the  fortress  and  the  numerous  caves  in  its  vicinity, 
and  drove  a  thriving  business  under  the  connivance 
of  the  soldiers  of  the  garrison. 

The  vigilance  of  the  captain-general  was  aroused. 
He  consulted  his  legal  adviser  and  factotum,  a 
shrewd,  meddlesome  Escribano  or  notary,  who  re 
joiced  in  an  opportunity  of  perplexing  the  old  poten 
tate  of  the  Alhambra,  and  involving  him  in  a  maze 
of  legal  subtilities.  He  advised  the  captain-general 
to  insist  upon  the  right  of  examining  every  convoy 
passing  through  the  gates  of  his  city,  and  he  penned 
a  long  letter  for  him,  in  vindication  of  the  right. 
Governor  Manco  was  a  straight-forward,  cut-and- 
thrust  old  soldier,  who  hated  an  Escribano  worse 
than  the  devil,  and  this  one  in  particular,  worse 
than  all  other  Escribanoes. 

"  What ! "  said  he,  curling  up  his  mustachios 
fiercely,  "  does  the  captain-general  set  his  man  of 
the  pen  to  practise  confusions  upon  me?  I'll  let 
him  see  that  an  old  soldier  is  not  to  be  baffled  by 
schoolcraft." 

He  seized  his  pen,  and  scrawled  a  short  letter  in 
a  crabbed  hand,  in  which,  without  deigning  to  enter 
»nto  argument,  he  insisted  on  the  right  of  transit 
free  of  search,  and  denounced  vengeance  on  any 
Custom-house  officer  who  should  lay  his  unhallowed 
hand  on  any  convoy  pro^cted  by  the  flag  oi  the 
Alhambra. 

While  this  question  was  agitated  between  the  two 
pragmatical  potentates,  it  so  happened  that  a  mule 
laden  with  supplies  for  the  fortress  arrived  o'ne  clay 
at  the  gate  of  Xenil,  by  which  it  was  to  traverse  a 
suburb  of  the  city  on  its  way  to  the  Alh-imbru, 
The  convoy  was  headed  by  a  testy  old  corporal,  who 
had  long  served  under  the  governor,  and  was  a  man 


THE  GOVERNOR  AND  THE  NOTARY.  245 

after  his  own  heart ;  as  trusty  and  staunch  as  an  old 
toledo  blade.  As  they  approached  the  gate  of  the 
city,  the  corporal  placed  the  banner  of  the  Alhambra 
on  the  pack  saddle  of  the  mule,  and,  drawing  him 
self  up  to  a  perfect  perpendicular,  advanced  with  his 
head  dressed  to  the  front,  but  with  the  wary  side 
glance  of  a  cur  passing  through  hostile  grounds,  and 
ready  for  a  snap  and  a  snarl. 

"Who  goes  there?"  said  the  sentinel  at  the 
gate. 

"  Soldier  of  the  Alhambra,"  said  the  corporal, 
without  turning  his  head. 

"  What  have  you  in  charge  ?  " 
:    "  Provisions  for  the  garrison." 

"Proceed." 

The  corporal  marched  straight  forward,  followed 
by  the  convoy,  but  had  not  advanced  many  paces, 
before  a  poss6  of  custom-house  officers  rushed  out 
of  a  small  toll-house. 

"Hallo,  there!"  cried  the  leader:  "Muleteer, 
halt  and  open  those  packages." 

The  corporal  wheeled  round,  and  drew  himself 
up  in  battle  array.  "  Respect  the  flag  of  the  Al 
hambra,"  said  he ;  "  these  things  are  for  the  gov 
ernor." 

"  A  fig  for  the  governor,  and  a  fig  for  his  flag. 
Muleteer,  halt,  I  say." 

"  Stop  the  convoy  at  your  peril !  "  cried  the  cor 
poral,  cocking  his  musket.  "  Muleteer,  proceed." 

The  muleteer  gave  his  beast  a  hearty  thwack,  the 
custom-house  officer  sprang  forward,  and  seized  the 
halter;  whereupon  the  corporal  levelled  his  piece 
and  shot  him  dead. 

The  street  was  immediately  in  an  uproar.  The 
old  corporal  was  seized,  and  after  undergoing  sundry 
kicks  and  cuffs,  and  cudgellings,  which  are  generally 
given  impromptu,  by  the  mob  in  Spain,  as  a  fore 
taste  of  the  after  penalties  of  the  law,  he  was  loaded 


816  THE  ALIIAMBRA. 

with  irons,  and  conducted  to  the  city  prison  ;  while 
his  comrades  were  permitted  to  proceed  with  the 
convoy,  after  it  had  been  well  rummaged,  to  the 
Alhambra. 

The  old  governor  was  in  a  towering  passion,  when 
he  heard  of  this  insult  to  his  flag  and  capture  of  his 
corporal.  For  a  time  he  stormed  about  the  Moorish 
halls,  and  vapoured  about  the  bastions,  and  looked 
down  fire  and  sword  upon  the  palace  of  the  captain- 
general.  Having  vented  the  first  ebullition  of  his 
wrath,  he  despatched  a  message  demanding  the 
surrender  of  the  corporal,  as  to  him  alone  belonged 
the  right  of  sitting  in  judgment  on  the  offences  of 
those  under  his  command.  The  captain-general, 
aided  by  the  pen  of  the  delighted  Escribano,  eplied 
at  great  length,  irguing  that  as  the  offence  had  been 
committed  within  the  walls  of  his  city,  and  against 
one  of  his  civil  officers,  it  was  clearly  within  his 
proper  jurisdiction.  The  governor  rejoined  by  a 
repetition  of  his  demand ;  the  captain-general  gave 
a  sur-rejoinder  of  still  greater  length,  and  legal 
acumen ;  the  governor  became  hotter  and  more 
peremptory  in  his  demands,  and  the  captain-general 
cooler  and  more  copious  in  his  replies  ;  until  the  old 
lion-hearted  soldier  absolutely  roared  with  fury, 
at  being  thus  entangled  in  the  meshes  of  legal  con 
troversy. 

While  the  subtle  Escribano  was  thus  amusing 
himself  at  the  expense  of  the  governor,  he  was  con 
ducting  the  trial  of  the  corporal ;  who,  mewed  up  in 
a  narrow  dungeon  of  the  prison,  had  merely  a  small 
grated  window  at  which  to  show  his  iron-bound 
visage,  and  receive  the  consolations  of  his  friends  ;  a 
mountain  of  written  testimony  was  diligently  heaped 
up,  according  to  Spanish  form,  by  the  indefatigable 
Escribano ;  the  corporal  was  completely  overwhelmed 
by  it.  He  was  convicted  of  murder,  and  sentenced 
to  be  hanged. 


THE  GOVERNOR  AND  THE  NOTARY.  247 

It  was  in  vain  the  governor  sent  down  remon 
strance  and  menace  from  the  Alhambra.  The  fatal 
day  was  at  hand,  and  the  corporal  was  put  in  capilla, 
that  is  to  say,  in  the  chapel  of  the  prison  ;  as  is  al 
ways  done  with  culprits  the  day  before  execution, 
that  they  may  meditate  on  their  approaching  end, 
and  repent  them  of  their  sins. 

Seeing  things  drawing  to  an  extremity,  the  old 
governor  determined  to  attend  to  the  affair  in  person. 
For  this  purpose  he  ordered  out  his  carriage  of 
state,  and,  surrounded  by  his  guards,  rumbled  down 
the  avenue  of  the  Alhambra  into  the  city.  Driving 
to  the  house  of  the  Escribano,  he  summoned  him  to 
the  portal. 

The  eye  of  the  old  governor  gleamed  like  a  coal  at 
beholding  the  smirking  man  of  the  law  advancing 
with  an  air  of  exultation. 

"  What  is  this  I  hear,"  cried  he,  "  that  you  are 
about  to  put  to  death  one  of  my  soldiers  ?  " 

"  All  according  to  law, — ail  in  strict  form  of  jus 
tice,"  said  the  self-sufficient  Escribano,  chuckling 
and  rubbing  his  hands.  "  I  can  show  your  excel 
lency  the  written  testimony  in  the  case." 

"  Fetch  it  hither,"  said  the  governor. 

The  Escribano  bustled  into  his  office,  delighted 
with  having  another  opportunity  of  displaying  his 
ingenuity  at  the  expense  of  the  hard-headed  veteran. 
He  returned  with  a  satchel  full  of  papers,  and 
began  to  read  a  long  deposition  with  professional 
volubility.  By  this  time,  a  crowd  had  collected, 
listening  with  outstretched  necks  and  gaping  mouths. 

"  Pry'thee  man,  get  into  the  carnage  out  of  this 
pestilent  throng,  that  I  may  the  better  hear  thee," 
said  the  governor. 

The  Escribano  entered  the  carriage,  when,  in  a 
twinkling,  the  door  was  closed,  the  coachrnan 
smacked  Ms  whip,  mules,  carriage,  guards,  and  all 
dashed  off  at  a  thundering  rate,  leaving  the  crowd 


248  THE  AL1JAMBKA. 

in  gaping  wonderment,  nor  did  the  governor  pause 
until  he  had  lodged  his  prey  in  one  of  the  strongest 
dungeons  of  the  Alhambra. 

He  then  sent  down  a  flag  of  truce  in  military 
style,  proposing  a  cartel  or  exchange  of  prisoners, 
the  corporal  for  the  notary.  The  pride  of  the  cap 
tain-general  was  piqued,  he  returned  a  contemptuous 
refusal,  and  forthwith  caused  a  gallows,  tall  and 
^trong,  to  be  erected  in  the  centre  of  the  Plaza 
ffeuva,  for  the  execution  of  the  corporal. 

"  O  ho  !  is  that  the  game  ?  "  said  governor  Manco : 
he  gave  orders,  and  immediately  a  gibbet  was  reared 
on  the  verge  of  the  great  beetling  bastion  that  over 
looked  the  Plaza.  "  Now,"  said  he,  in  a  message  to 
the  captain-general,  "  hang  my  soldier  when  you 
please ;  but  at  the  same  time  that  he  is  swung  off 
in  the  square,  look  up  to  see  your  Escribano  dan 
gling  against  the  sky." 

The  captain-general  was  inflexible ;  troops  were 
paraded  in  the  square;  the  drums  beat;  the  bell 
tolled ;  an  immense  multitude  of  amateurs  had 
collected  to  behold  the  execution ;  on  the  other 
hand,  the  governor  paraded  his  garrison  on  the  bas 
tion,  and  tolled  the  funeral  dirge  of  the  notary  from 
the  Torre  de  la  Campana,  or  tower  of  the  bell. 

The  notary's  wife  pressed  through  the  crowd  with 
a  whole  progeny  of  little  embryo  Escribanoes  at  her 
heels,  and  throwing  herself  ,v:  the  feet  of  the  captain- 
general,  implored  him  not  to  sacrifice  the  life  of  her 
husband,  and  the  welfare  of  herself  and  her  numer 
ous  little  ones  to  a  point  of  pride ;  "  for  you  know 
the  old  governor  too  well,"  said  she,  "  to  doubt  that 
he  will  put  his  threat  in  execution  if  you  hang  the 
soldier." 

The  captain-general  was  overpowered  by  her 
tears  and  lamentations,  and  the  clamours  of  her 
callow  brood.  The  corporal  was  sent  up  to  the 
Alhambra  under  a  guard,  in  his  gallows  garb,  like  a 


THE  GOVERNOR  AND  THE  NOTARY.  249 

hooded  friar;  but  with  head  erect  and  a  face  of  iron. 
The  Escribano  was  demanded  in  exchange,  accord 
ing  to  the  cartel.  The  once  bustling  and  self-suf 
ficient  man  of  the  law  was  drawn  forth  from  his 
dungeon,  more  dead  than  alive.  All  his  flippancy 
and  conceit  had  evaporated ;  his  hair,  it  is  said,  had 
nearly  turned  gray  with  affright,  and  he  had  a 
downcast,  dogged  look,  as  if  he  still  felt  the  halter 
round  his  neck. 

The  old  governor  stuck  his  one  arm  a-kimbo, 
and  for  a  moment  surveyed  him  with  an  iron  smile. 
"  Henceforth,  my  friend,"  said  he,  "moderate  youi 
zeal  in  hurrying  others  to  the  gallows ;  be  not  too 
certain  of  your  own  safety,  even  though  you  should 
have  the  law  on  your  side ;  and,  above  all,  take  care 
how  you  play  off  your  schoolcraft  another  time  upon 
an  old  soldier." 


GO  VERNOR  MANCO  AND 
THE  SOLDIER. 

WHEN  governor  Manco,  or  the  one-armed,  kepT" 
up  a  show  of  military  state  in  the  Alhambra,  he 
became  nettled  at  the  reproaches  continually  cast 
upon  his  fortress  of  being-  a  nestling  place  of  rogues 
and  contrabandistas.  On  a  sudden,  the  old  poten 
tate  determined  on  reform,  and  setting  vigorously  to 
work,  ejected  whole  nests  of  vagabonds  out  of  the 
fortress,  and  the  gipsy  caves  with  which  the  sur 
rounding  hills  are  honey-combed.  He  sent  out  sol 
diers,  also,  to  patrol  the  avenues  and  footpaths,  with 
orders  to  take  up  all  suspicious  persons. 

One  bright  summer  morning,  a  patrol  consisting 
of  the  testy  old  corporal  who  had  distinguished 
himself  in  the  affair  of  the  notary,  a  trumpeter  and 
two  privates  were  seated  under  the  garden  wall  of 
the  Ceneraliffe,  beside  the  road  which  leads  down 
from  the  mountain  of  the  Sun,  when  they  heard  the 
tramp  of  a  horse,  and  a  male  voice  singing  in  rough, 
though  not  unmusical  tones,  an  old  Castilian  cam 
paigning  song. 

Presently  they  beheld  a  sturdy,  sun-burnt  fellow 
clad  in  the  ragged  garb  of  a  foot-soldier,  leading  a 
powerful  Arabian  horse  caparisoned  in  the  ancient 
Morisco  fashion. 

Astonished  at  the  sight  of  a  strange  soldier  de 
scending,  steed  in  hand,  from  that  solitary  moun 
tain,  the  corporal  stepped  forth  and  challenged  him. 

"  Who  goes  there  ?  " 


QOVEltXOll  MANCO  AND  SOLDIER.  251 

"  A  friend." 

"Who,  and  what  are  you?" 

"  A  poor  soldier,  just  from  the  wars,  with  a 
cracked  crown  and  empty  purse  for  a  reward." 

By  this  time  they  were  enabled  to  view  him  more 
narrowly.  He  had  a  black  patch  across  his  fore 
head,  which,  with  a  grizzled  beard,  added  to  a  cer 
tain  dare-devil  cast  of  countenance,  while  a  slight 
squint  threw  into  the  whole  an  occasional  gleam  of 
roguish  good-humour. 

Having  answered  the  questions  of  the  patrol,  the 
soldier  seemed  to  consider  himself  entitled  to  make 
others  in  return. 

"  May  I  ask,"  said  he,  "  what  city  is  this  which  I 
see  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  ?  " 

"  What  city  !  "  cried  the  trumpeter ;  "  come,  that's 
too  bad.  Here's  a  fellow  lurking  about  the  moun 
tain  of  the  Sun,  and  demands  the  name  of  the  great 
city  of  Granada." 

"  Granada  !  Madre  de  Dios  !  can  it  be  possible  !  " 

"  Perhaps  not !  "  rejoined  the  trumpeter,  "  and 
perhaps  you  have  no  idea  that  yonder  are  the  towers 
of  the  Alhambra?  " 

"  Son  of  a  trumpet,"  replied  the  stranger,  "  do 
not  trille  with  me  ;  if  this  be  indeed  the  Alhambra,  I 
have  some  strange  matters  to  reveal  to  the  governor." 

"You  will  have  an  opportunity,"  said  the  cor 
poral,  "for  we  mean  to  take  you  before  him." 

By  this  time  the  trumpeter  had  seized  the  bridle 
of  the  steed,  the  two  privates  had  each  secured  an 
arm  of  the  soldier,  the  corporal  put  himself  in  front, 
gave  the  word,  "  forward,  march  !  "  and  away  they 
marched  for  the  Alhambra. 

The  sight  of  a  ragged  foot-soldier  and  a  fine 
Arabian  horse  brought  in  captive  by  the  patrol,  at 
tracted  the  attention  of  all  the  idlers  of  the  fortress, 
and  of  those  gossip  groups  that  generally  assemble 
about  wells  and  fountains  at  early  dawn-.  The  wheel 


252  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

of  the  cistern  paused  in  its  rotations ;  the  slipshod 
servant-maid  stood  gaping  with  pitcher  in  hand,  as 
the  corporal  passed  by  with  his  prize.  A  motley 
train  gradually  gathered  in  the  rear  of  the  escort. 
Knowing  nods,  and  winks,  and  conjectures  passed 
from  one  to  another.  It  is  a  deserter,  said  one  ;  a 
contrabandista,  said  another;  a  bandalero,  said  a 
third,  until  it  was  affirmed  that  a  captain  of  a  des 
perate  band  of  robbers  had  been  captured  by  the 
prowess  of  the  corporal  and  his  patrol.  "  Well, 
well,"  said  the  old  crones  one  to  another,  "  captain 
or  not,  let  him  get  out  of  the  grasp  of  old  governor 
Manco  if  he  can,  though  he  is  but  one-handed." 

Governor  Manco  was  seated  in  one  of  the  inner 
halls  of  the  Alhambra,  taking  his  morning's  cup  of 
chocolate  in  company  with  his  confessor,  a  fat 
Franciscan  friar  from  the  neighbouring  convent.  A 
demure,  dark-eyed  damsel  of  Malaga,  the  daughter 
of  his  housekeeper,  was  attending  upon  him. 

The  world  hinted  that  the  damsel,  who,  with  all 
her  demureness,  was  a  sly,  buxom  baggage,  had 
found  out  a  soft  spot  in  the  iron  heart  of  the  old 
governor,  and  held  complete  control  over  him, — but 
let  that  pass  ;  the  domestic  affairs  of  these  mighty 
potentates  of  the  earth  should  not  be  too  narrowly 
scrutinized. 

When  word  was  brought  that  a  suspicious  stranger 
had  been  taken  lurking  about  the  fortress,  and  was 
actually  in  the  outer  court,  in  durance  of  the  cor 
poral,  waiting  the  pleasure  of  his  excellency,  the 
pride  and  stateliness  of  office  swelled  the  bosom  of 
the  governor.  Giving  back  his  chocolate  cup  into 
the  hands  "of  the  demure  damsel,  he  called  for  his 
basket-hilted  sword,  girded  it  to  his  side,  twirled  up 
his  mustachios,  took  his  seat  in  a  large  high-backed 
chair,  assumed  a  bitter  and  forbidding  aspect,  and 
ordered  the  prisoner  into  his  presence.  The  soldier 
was  brought  in,  still  closely  pinioned  by  his  captors, 


GOVERNOR  JfAMu  AXD  SOLDIER.  253 

and  guarded  by  the  corporal.  He  maintained,  how 
ever,  a  resolute,  self-confident  air,  and  returned  the 
sharp,  scrutinizing  look  of  the  governor  with  an 
easy  squint,  which  by  no  means  pleased  the  punc 
tilious  old  potentate. 

"  Well,  culprit !  "  said  the  governor,  after  he  had 
regarded  him  for  a  moment  in  silence,  "  what  have 
you  to  say  for  yourself?  who  are  you  ?  " 

"  A  soldier,  just  from  the  wars,  who  has  brought 
away  nothing  but  scars  and  bruises." 

"A  soldier?  humph  !  a  foot-so. dier  ty  your  garb. 
I  understand  you  have  a  fine  Arabian  horse.  I  pre 
sume  you  brought  him  too  from  the  wars,  beside 
your  scars  and  bruises." 

"  May  it  please  your  excellency,  I  have  something 
strange  to  tell  about  that  horse.  Indeed,  I  have  one 
of  the  most  wonderful  things  to  relate — somethi  ng 
too  that  concerns  the  security  of  this  fortress,  indeed 
of  all  Granada.  But  it  is  a  matter  to  be  imparted 
only  to  your  private  ear,  or  in  presence  of  such  only 
as  are  in  your  confidence." 

The  governor  considered  for  a  moment,  and  then 
directed  the  corporal  and  his  men  to  withdraw,  but 
to  post  themselves  outside  of  the  door,  and  be  ready 
at  call.  -"This  holy  friar,"  said  he,  "is  my  confes 
sor,  you  may  say  any  thing  in  his  presence— and 
this  damsel,"  nodding  towards  the  handmaid,  who 
had  loitered  with  an  air  of  great  curiosity,  "  this 
damsel  is  of  great  secrecy  and  discretion,  and  to  be 
trusted  with  any  thing." 

The  soldier  gave  a  glance  between  a  squint  and  a 
leer  at  the  dem-ure  handmaid.  *'  I  am  perfectly  will 
ing,"  said  he,  '•  that  the  damsel  should  remain." 

When  all  the  rest  had  withdrawn,  the  soldier  com 
menced  his  story.  He  was  a  fluent,  smooth-tongued 
varlet,  and  had  a  command  of  language  above  hii 
apparent  rank. 

"  May  it  please  your  excellency,"  said  he,  "  I  am, 


254  THE  ALHAMttKA. 

as  I  before  observed,  a  soldier,  and  have  seen  some 
hard  service,  but  my  term  of  enlistment  being  ex 
pired,  I  was  discharged  not  long  since  from  the  army 
at  Valladolid,  and  set  out  on  foot  for  my  native  vil 
lage  in  Andalusia.  Yesterday  evening  the  sun  went 
down  as  I  was  traversing  a  great  dry  plain  of  old 
Castile." 

"  Hold  !  "  cried  the  governor,  "  what  is  this  you 
say?  Old  Castile  is  some  two  or  three  hundred 
miles  from  this." 

"  Even  so,"  replied  the  soldier,  coolly,  "  I  told  your 
excellency  I  had  strange  things  to  relate — but  not 
more  strange  than  true — as  your  excellency  will  find, 
if  you  will  deign  me  a  patient  hearing." 

"  Proceed,  culprit,"  said  the  governor,  twirling  up 
his  mustachios. 

"As  the  sun  went  down,"  continued  the  soldier, 
"  I  cast  my  eyes  about  in  search  of  some  quarters 
for  the  night,  but  far  as  my  sight  could  reach, 
there  was  no  signs  of  habitation.  I  saw  that  I 
should  have  to  make  my  bed  on  the  naked  plain, 
with  my  knapsack  for  a  pillow  ;  but  your  excellency 
is  an  old  soldier,  and  knows  that  to  one  who  has 
been  in  the  wars,  such  a  night's  lodging  is  no  great 
hardship." 

The  governor  nodded  assent,  as  he  drew  his  pock 
et-handkerchief  out  of  the  basket-hilt  of  his  sword, 
to  drive  away  a  fly  that  buzzed  about  his  nose. 

"  Well,  to  make  a  long  story  short,"  continued  the 
soldier,  "  I  trudged  forward  for  several  miles,  until  I 
came  to  a  bridge  over  a  deep  ravine,  through  which 
ran  a  little  thread  of  water,  almost  dried  up  by  the 
summer  heat.  At  one  end  of  the  bridge  was  a 
Moorish  tower,  the  upper  part  all  in  ruins,  but  a 
vault  in  the  foundations  quite  entire.  Here,  thinks 
I,  is  a  good  place  to  make  a  halt.  So  I  went  down 
to  the  stream,  took  a  hearty  drink,  for  the  water  was 
pure  and  sweet,  and  I  was  parched  with  thirst,  then 


GOVERNOR  MANCO  AND  SOLDIER.  255 

opening  my  wallet,  I  took  out  an  onion  and  a  few 
crusts,  which  were  all  my  provisions,  and  seating 
myself  on  a  stone  on  the  margin  of  the  stream, 
began  to  make  my  supper  ;  intending  afterwards  to 
quarter  myself  for  the  night  in  the  vault  of  the  tower, 
and  capital  quarters  they  would  have  been  for  a 
campaigner  just  from  the  wars,  as  your  excellency, 
who  is  an  old  soldier,  may  suppose." 

"  I  have  put  up  gladly  with  worse  in  my  time," 
said  the  governor,  returning  his  pocket-handkerchief 
into  the  hilt  of  his  sword. 

44  While  I  was  quietly  craunching  my  crust,"  pur 
sued  the  soldier,  "  I  heard  something  stir  within  the 
vault;  I  listened:  it  was  the  tramp  of  a  horse.  By 
and  by  a  man  came  forth  from  a  door  in  the  founda 
tion  of  the  tower,  close  by  the  water's  edge,  leading 
a  powerful  horse  by  the  bridle.  I  could  not  well 
make  out  what  he  was  by  the  starlight.  It  had  a 
suspicious  look  to  be  lurking  among  the  ruins  of  a 
tower  in  that  wild  solitary  place.  He  might  be  a 
mere  wayfarer  like  myself ;  he  might  be  a  contra- 
bandista  ;  he  might  be  a  bandalero  !  What  of  that, 
—thank  heaven  and  my  poverty,  1  had  nothing  to 
lose, — so  I  sat  still  and  craunched  my  crusts. 

"  He  led  his  horse  to  the  water  close  by  where  I 
was  sitting,  so  that  I  had  a  fair  opportunity  of  re 
connoitring  him.  To  my  surprise,  he  was  dressed 
in  a  Moorish  garb,  with  a  cuirass  of  steel,  and  a 
polished  skullcap,  that  I  distinguished  by  the  reflec 
tion  of  the  stars  upon  it.  His  horse,  too,  was  har 
nessed  in  the  Morisco  fashion,  with  great  shovel 
stirrups.  He  led  him,  as  I  said,  to  the  side  of  the 
stream,  into  which  the  animal  plunged  his  head  al 
most  to  the  eyes,  and  drank  until  I  thought  he 
would  have  burst. 

"  '  Comrade,'  said  I,  '  your  steed  drinks  well ;  it's 
a  good  sign  when  a  horse  plunges  his  muzzle  bravely 
into  the  water.' 


256  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

"'He  may  well  drink,'  said  the  stranger,  speaking 
with  a  Moorish  accent ;  4  it  is  a  good  year  since  he 
had  his  last  draught.' 

" '  By  Santiago,'  said  I,  '  that  beats  even  the 
camels  that  I  have  seen  in  Africa.  But  come,  you 
seem  to  be  something  of  a  soldier,  won't  you  sit 
down,  and  take  part  of  a  soldier's  fare  ?  ' — In  fact,  I 
felt  the  want  of  a  companion  in  this  lonely  place, 
and  was  willing  to  put  up  with  an  infidel.  Besides, 
as  your  excellency  well  knows,  a  soldier  is  never 
very  particular  about  the  faith  of  his  company,  and 
soldiers  of  all  countries  are  comrades  on  peaceable 
ground." 

The  governor  again  nodded  assent. 

"  Well,  as  I  was  saying,  I  invited  him  to  share  my 
supper,  such  as  it  was,  for  I  could  not  do  less  in 
common  hospitality. 

"  '  I  have  no  time  to  pause  for  meat  or  drink," 
said  he, '  I  have  a  long  journey  to  make  before  morn 
ing.' 

" '  In  which  direction  ?  '  said  I. 

" '  Andalusia,'  said  he. 

"'Exactly  my  route,'  said  I.  'So  as  you  won't 
stop  and  eat  with  me,  perhaps  you'll  let  me  mount 
and  ride  with  you.  I  see  your  horse  is  of  a  powerful 
frame  :  I'll  warrant  he'll  carry  double.' 

" '  Agreed,'  said  the  trooper ;  and  it  would  not 
have  been  civil  and  soldierlike  to  refuse,  especially 
as  I  had  offered  to  share  my  supper  with  him.  So 
up  he  mounted,  and  up  I  mounted  behind  him. 

" '  Hold  fast,'  said  he,  '  my  steed  goes  like  the 
wind.' 

"'Never  fear  me,'  said  I,  and  so  off  we  set. 

"  From  a  walk  the  horse  soon  passed  to  a  trot, 
from  a  trot  to  a  gallop,  and  from  a  gallop  to  a 
harum-scarum  scamper.  It  seemed  as  if  rocks, 
trees,  houses,  every  thing,  flew  hurry-scurry  behind 
us. 


GOVERNOR  MANGO  AND  SOLDIER.  257 

"  '  What  town  is  this  ?  '  said  I. 

"'Segovia,' said  he;  and  before  the  words  were 
out  of  his  mouth,  the  towers  of  Segovia  were  out 
of  sight.  We  swept  up  the  Guadarama  mountains, 
and  down  by  the  Escurial ;  and  we  skirted  the  walls 
of  Madrid,  and  we  scoured  away  across  the  plains  ol 
La  Mancha.  In  this  way  we  went  up  hill  and  down 
dale,  by  towns  and  cities  all  buried  in  deep  sleep, 
and  across  mountains,  and  plains,  and  rivers,  jus* 
glimmering,  in  the  starlight. 

"  To  make  a  long  story  short,  and  not  to  fatiguo 
your  excellency,  the  trooper  suddenly  pulled  up  on 
the  side  of  a  mountain.  *  Here  we  are,'  said  he,  '  at 
the  end  of  our  journey.' 

"  I  looked  about,  but  could  see  no  signs  of  habita 
tion  :  nothing  but  the  mouth  of  a  cavern  :  while  1 
looked,  1  saw  multitudes  of  people  in  Moorish  dresses, 
some  on  horseback,  some  on  foot,  arriving  as.  if 
borne  by  the  wind  from  all  points  of  the  compass, 
and  hurrying  into  the  mouth  of  the  cavern  like  bees 
into  a  hive.  Before  I  could  ask  a  question,  the 
trooper  struck  his  long  Moorish  spurs  into  the  horse's 
flanks,  and  dashed  in  with  the  throng.  We  passed 
along  a  steep  winding  way  that  descended  into  the 
very  bowels  of  the  mountain.  As  we  pushed  on,  a 
light  began  to  glimmer  up  by  little  and  little,  like  the 
first  glimmerings  of  day,  but  what  caused  it,  I  could 
not  discover.  Jt  grew  stronger  and  stronger,  and 
enabled  me  to  see  every  thing  around.  1  now  no 
ticed  as  we  passed  along,  great  caverns  opening  to 
the  right  and  left,  like  halls  in  an  arsenal.  In  some 
there  were  shields,  and  helmets,  and  cuirasses,  and 
lances,  and  scimitars  hanging  against  the  walls ;  in 
others,  there  were  great  heaps  of  warlike  munitions 
and  camp  equipage  lying  upon  the  ground. 

"  It  would  have  done  your  excellency's  heart 
good,  being1  an  old  soldier,  to  have  seen  such  grand 
provision  for  war.  Then  in  other  carverns  there 


258  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

were  long  rows  of  horsemen,  armed  to  the  teeth, 
with  lances  raised  and  banners  unfurled,  all  ready 
for  the  field ;  but  they  all  sat  motionless  in  their 
saddles  like  so  many  statues.  In  other  halls,  were 
warriors  sleeping  on  the  ground  beside  their  horses, 
and  foot  soldiers  in  groups,  ready  to  fall  into  the 
ranks.  All  were  in  old-fashioned  Moorish  dress.es 
and  armour. 

"  Well,  your  excellency,  to  cut  a  long  story  short, 
we  at  length  entered  an  immense  cavern,  or  I  might 
say  palace,  of  grotto  work,  the  walls  of  which 
seemed  to  be  veined  with  gold  and  silver,  and  to 
sparkle  with  diamonds  and  sapphires,  and  all  kinds 
of  precious  stones.  At  the  upper  end  sat  a  Moorish 
king  on  a  golden  throne,  with  his  nobles  on  each 
side,  and  a  guard  of  African  blacks  with  drawn 
scimitai-5.  All  the  crowd  that  continued  to  flock 
in,  and  amounted  to  thousands  and  thousands, 
passed  one  by  one  before  his  throne,  each  paying 
homage  as  he  passed.  Some  of  the  multitude  were 
dressed  in  magnificent  robes,  without  stain  or  blem 
ish,  and  sparkling  with  jewels ;  others  in  burnished 
and? enamelled  armour;  while  others  were  in  moul 
dered  and  mildewed  garments,  and  in  armour  all 
battered  and  dinted,  and  covered  with  rust. 

"  I  had  hitherto  held  my  tongue,  for  your  ex 
cellency  well  knows,  it  is  not  for  a  soldier  to  ask 
many  questions  when  on  duty,  but  I  could  keep 
silence  no  longer. 

"'Pry'thee,  comrade,'  said  I,  'what  is  the  mean 
ing  of  all  this? ' 

"  '  This,'  said  the  trooper,  « is  a  great  and  pow 
erful  mystery.  Know,  O  Christian,  that  you  see  be 
fore  you  the  court  and  army  of  Boabdil,  the  last  king 
of  Granada.' 

" '  What  is  this  you  tell  me  ! '  cried  I.  '  Boabdil 
and  his  court  were  exiled  from  the  land  hundreds  of 
years  agone,  and  all  died  in  Africa.' 


GOVERNOR  MANGO  AND  SOLDIER.  259 

" '  So  it  is  recorded  in  your  lying1  chronicles,  re 
plied  the  Moor,  '  but  know  that  Boabdil  and  the  war 
riors  who  made  the  last  struggle  tor  Granada  were 
all  shut  up  in  this  mountain  by  powerful  enchant 
ment.  As  to  the  king  and  army  that  marched  forth 
from  Granada  at  the  time  of  the  surrender,  they 
were  a  mere  phantom  train,  or  spirits  and  demons 
permitted  to  assume  those  shapes  to  deceive  the 
Christian  sovereigns.  And  furthermore  let  me  tell 
you,  friend,  that  all  Spain  is  a  country  under  the 
power  of  enchantment.  There  is  not  a  mountain- 
cave,  not  a  lonely  watch-tower  in  the  plains,  nor 
ruined  castle  on  the  hillsv  but  has  some  spell-bound 
warriors  sleeping  from  age  to  age  within  its  vaults, 
until  the  sins  are  expiated  for  which  Allah  permitted 
the  dominion  to  pass  for  a  time  out  of  the  hands  of 
the  faithful.  Once  every  year,  on  the  eve.  of  St. 
John,  they  are  released  from  enchantment  from  sun 
set  to  sunrise,  and  permitted  to  repair  here  to  pay 
homage  to  their  sovereign ;  and  the  crowds  which 
you  beheld  swarming  into  the  cavern  are  Moslem 
warriors  from  their  haunts  in  all  parts  of  Spain  ;  for 
my  own  part,  you  saw  the  ruined  tower  of  the 
bridge  in  old  Castile,  where  I  haVe  now  wintered 
and  summered  for  many  hundred  years,  and  where 
I  must  be  back  again  by  day-break.  As  to  the  bat 
talions  of  horse  and  foot  which  you  beheld  drawn 
up  in  array  in  the  neighbouring  caverns,  they  are 
the  spell-bound  warriors  of  Granada.  It  is  written 
in  the  book  of  fate,  that  when  the  enchantment  is 
broken,  Boabdil  will  descend  from  the  mountains  at 
the  head  of  this  army,  resume  his  throne  in  the  Al- 
hambra  and  his  sway  of  Granada,  and  gathering 
together  the  enchanted  warriors  from  all  parts  of 
Spain,  will  reconquer  the  peninsula,  and  restore  it  to 
Moslem  rule.' 

"  '  And  when  shall  this  happen  ?  '  said  I. 

"  '  Allah  alone  knows.     We  had  hoped  the  day  of 


200  THE  ALIIAMBKA. 

deliverance  was  at  hand  ;  but  there  reigns  at  present 
a  vigilant  governor  in  Alhambra,  a  staunch  old 
soldier,  the  same  called  governor  Manco  ;  while 
such  a  warrior  holds  command  of  the  very  outpost, 
and  stands  ready  to  check  the  first  irruption  from 
the  mountain,  I  fear  Boabdil  and  his  soldiery  must 
be  content  to  rest  upon  their  arms.'  " 

Here  the  governor  raised  himself  somewhat  per 
pendicularly,  adjusted  his  sword,  and  twirled  up  his 
mustachios. 

"  To  make  a  long  story  short,  and  not  to  fatigue 
your  excellency,  the  trooper  having  given  me  this  ac 
count,  dismounted  from  his  steed. 

"'Tarry  here,'  said  he,  'and  guard  my  steed, 
while  I  go  and  bow  the  knee  to  Boabdil.'  So  saying, 
he  strode  away  among  the  throng  that  pressed  for 
ward  to  the  throne. 

"  What's  to  be  clone  ?  thought  I,  when  thus  left  to 
myself.  Shall  I  wait  here  until  this  infidel  returns 
to  whisk  me  off  on  his  goblin  steed,  the  Lord  knows 
where  ?  or  shall  I  make  the  most  of  my  time,  and 
beat  a  retreat  from  this  hobgoblin  community  ? — A 
soldier's  mind  is  soon  made  up,  as  your  excellency 
well  knows.  As  to  the  horse,  he  belonged  to  an 
avowed  enemy  of  the  faith  and  the  realm,  and  was  a 
fair  prize  according  to  the  rules  of  war.  So  hoisting 
myself  from  the  crupper  into  the  saddle,  I  turned 
the  reins,  struck  the  Moorish  stirrups  into  the  sides 
of  the  steed,  and  put  him  to  make  the  best  of  his 
way  out  of  the  passage  by  which  we  had  entered. 
As  we  scoured  by  the  halls  where  the  Moslem 
horsemen  sat  in  motionless  battalions,  I  thought  I 
heard  the  clang  of  armour,  and  a  hollow  murmur  of 
voices.  I  gave  the  steed  another  taste  of  the  stir 
rups,  and  doubled  my  speed.  There  was  now  a 
sound  behind  me  like  a  rushing  blast ;  I  heard  the 
clatter  of  a  thousand  hoofs  ;  a  countless  throng  over 
took  me  ;  I  was  borne  along  in  the  press,  and  hurled 


GOVERNOR  MANGO  AND  SOLDIER.  201 

forth  from  the  mouth  of  the  cavern,  while  thou 
sands  of  shadowy  forms  were  swept  off  in  every  di 
rection  by  the  four  winds  of  heaven. 

"  In  the  whirl  and  confusion  of  the  scene,  I  was 
thrown  from  the  saddle,  and  fell  senseless  to  the 
earth.  When  I  came  to  myself  I  was  lying  on  the 
brow  ot  a  hill,  witn  the  Arabian  steed  standing-  be 
side  me,  for  in  falling  my  arm  had  slipped  within 
the  bridle,  which,  I  presume,  prevented  his  whisking 
off  to  old  Castile. 

"  Your  excellency  may  easily  judge  of  my  surprise 
on  looking  round,  to  behold  hedges  of  aloes  and 
Indian  figs,  and  other  proofs  of  a  southern  climate, 
and  see  a  great  city  below  me  with  towers  and 
palaces,  and  a  grand  cathedral.  I  descended  the 
hill  cautiously,  leading  my  steed,  for  I  was  afraid  to 
mount  him  again,  lest  he  should  play  me  some 
slippery  trick.  As  I  descended,  I  met  with  your 
patrol,  who  let  me  into  the  secret  that  it  was  Gra 
nada  that  lay  before  me  :  and  that  I  was  actually  un 
der  the  walls  of  the  Alhambra,  the  fortress  of  the 
redoubted  governor  Manco,  the  terror  of  all  en 
chanted  Moslems.  .'When  I  heard  this,  I  deter 
mined  at  once  to- seek  your  excellency,  to  inform  you 
of  all  that  I  had  seen,  and  to  warn  you  of  the  perils 
that  surround  and  undermine  you,  that  you  may 
take  measures  in  time  to  guard  your  fortress,  and 
the  kingdom  itself,  from  this  intestine  army  that 
lurks  in  the  very  bowels  of  the  land." 

"  And  pry'thee,  friend,  you  who  are  a  veteran  cam 
paigner,  and  have  seen  so  much  service,"  said  the 
governor,  "  how  would  you  advise  me  to  go  about  to 
prevent  this  evil  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  for  an  humble  private  of  the  ranks," 
said  the  soldier  modestly,  "  to  pretend  to  instruct  a 
commander  of  your  excellency's  sagacity  ;  but  it  ap 
pears  to  me  that  your  excellency  might  cause  all  the 
caves  and  entrances  into  the  mountain  to  be  walled 


262  THE  ALIIAMBRA. 

up  with  solid  mason-work,  so  that  Boabdil  and  his 
army  might  be  completely  corked  up  in  their  sub 
terranean  habitation.  If  the  good  father  too,"  added 
the  soldier,  reverently  bowing  to  the  friar,  and  de 
voutly  crossing  himself,  "  would  consecrate  the  bar- 
ricadoes  with  his  blessing,  and  put  up  a  few  crosses 
and  reliques,  and  images  of  saints,  I  think  they 
might  withstand  all  the  power  of  infidel  enchant 
ments." 

"They  doubtless  would  be  of  great  avail,"  said 
the  friar. 

The  governor  now  placed  his  arm  a-kimbo,  with 
his  hand  resting  on  the  hilt  of  his  toledo,  fixed  his 
eye  upon  the  soldier,  and  gently  wagging  his  head 
from  one  side  to  the  other  : 

"So,  friend,"  said  he,  "then  you  really  suppose  I 
am  to  be  gulled  with  this  cock-and-bull  story  about 
enchanted  mountains,  and  enchanted  Moors.  Hark 
ye,  culprit ! — -not  another  word. — An  old  soldier  you 
may  be,  but  you'll  find  you  have  an  old  soldier  to 
deal  with ;  and  one  not  easily  outgeneralled.  Ho  ! 
guard  there  ! — put  this  fellow  in  irons." 

The  demure  handmaid  would  have  put  in  a  word 
in  favour  of  the  prisoner,  but  the  governor  silenced 
her  with  a  look. 

As  they  were  pinioning  the  soldier,  one  of  the 
guards  felt  something  of  bulk  in  his  pocket,  and 
drawing  it  forth,  found  a  long  leathern  purse  that 
appeared  to  be  well  filled.  Holding  it  by  one  corner, 
he  turned  out  the  contents  on  the  table  before  the 
governor,  and  never  did  freebooter's  bag  make  more 
gorgeous  delivery.  Out  tumbled  rings  and  jewels, 
and  rosaries  of  pearls,  and  sparkling  diamond  cross 
es,  and  a  profusion  of  ancient  golden  coin,  some  of 
which  fell  jingling  to  the  floor,  and  rolled  away  to 
the  uttermost  parts  of  the  chamber. 

For  a  time  the  sanctions  of  justice  were  sus- 
Dended  :  there  was  a  universal  scramble  after  the 


GOVERNOR  MANGO  AND  SOLDIER.  263 

glittering  fugitives.  The  governor  alone,  who  was 
imbued  with  true  Spanish  pride,  maintained  his 
stately  decorum,  though  his  eye  betrayed  a  little 
anxiety  until  the  last  coin  and  jewel  was  restored  to 
the  sack. 

The  friar  was  not  so  calm;  his  whole  face  glowed 
like  a  furnace,  and  his  eyes  twinkled  and  flashed  at 
sight  of  the  rosaries  and  crosses. 

"  Sacrilegious  wretch  that  thou  art,"  exclaimed  he, 
"  what  church  or  sanctuary  hast  thou  been  plundering 
of  these  sacred  reliques  ?  " 

"  Neither  one  nor  the  other,  holy  father.  If  they 
be  sacrilegious  spoils,  they  must  have  been  taken  in 
times  long  past  by  the  infidel  trooper  I  have  men 
tioned.  I  was  just  going  to  tell  his  excellency,  when 
he  interrupted  me,  that,  on  taking  possession  of  the 
trooper's  horse,  I  unhooked  a  leathern  sack  which 
hung  at  the  saddle  bow,  and  which,  I  presume,  con 
tained  the  plunder  of  his  campaignings  in  days  of 
old,  when  the  Moors  overran  the  country. " 

'•  Mighty  well, — at  present  you  will  make  up  your 
mind  to  take  up  your  quarters  in  a  chamber  of  the 
Vermilion  towers,  which,  though  not  under  a  magic 
spell,  will  hold  you  as  safe  as  any  cave  of  your  en 
chanted  Moors." 

"  Your  excellency  will  do  as  you  think  proper," 
said  the  prisoner  coolly.  "I  shall  be  thankful  to 
your  excellency  for  any  accommodation  in  the  fortress. 
A  soldier  who  has  been  in  the  wars,  as  your  excel 
lency  well  knows,  is  not  particular  about  his  lodg 
ings  ;  and  provided  I  have  a  snug  dungeon  and  regu 
lar  rations,  I  shall  manage  to  make  myself  comfort 
able.  I  would  only  entreat,  that  while  your  excel 
lency  is  so  careful  about  me,  you  would  have  an 
eye  to  your  fortress,  and  think  on  the  hint  I  drop 
ped  about  stopping  up  the  entrances  to  the  moun 
tain." 

Here  ended  the  scene.    The  prisoner  was  con- 


264  THE  ALHAMDRA. 

ducted  to  a  strong  dungeon  in  the  Vermilion  towers, 
the  Arabian  steed  was  led  to  his  excellency's  stable, 
and  the  trooper's  sack  was  deposited  in  his  excel 
lency's  strong  box.  To  the  latter,  it  is  true,  the 
friar  made  some  demur,  questioning  whether  the 
sacred  reliques,  which  were  evidently  sacrilegious 
spoils,  should  not  be  placed  in  custody  of  the  church  ; 
but  as  the  governor  was  peremptory  on  the  subject, 
and  was  absolute  lord  in  the  Alhambra,  the  friar  dis 
creetly  dropped  the  discussion,  but  determined  to 
convey  intelligence  of  the  fact  to  the  church  digni 
taries  in  Granada. 

To  explain  these  prompt  and  rigid  measures  on 
the  part  of  old  governor  Manco,  it  is  proper  to  ob 
serve,  that  about  this  time  the  Alpuxarra  mountains  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Granada  were  terribly  infested 
by  a  gang  of  robbers,  under  the  command  of  a  daring 
chief,  named  Manuel  Borasco,  who  were  accustomed 
to  prowl  about  the  country,  and  even  to  enter  the 
city  in  various  disguises  to  gain  intelligence  of  the 
departure  of  convoys  of  merchandise,  or  travellers 
with  well-lined  purses,  whom  they  took  care  to  way 
lay  in  distant  and  solitary  passes  of  their  road. 
These  repeated  and  daring  outrages  had  awakened 
the  attention  of  government,  and  the  commanders 
of  the  various  posts  had  received  instructions  to  be 
on  the  alert,  and  to  take  up  all  suspicious  strag 
glers.  Governor  Manco  was  particularly  zealous, 
in  consequence  of  the  various  stigmas  that  had 
been  cast  upon  his  fortress,  and  he  now  doubted  not 
that  he  had  entrapped  some  formidable  desperado 
of  this  gang. 

In  the  mean  time  the  story  took  wind,  and  became 
the  talk  not  merely  of  the  fortress,  but  of  the  whole 
city  of  Granada!  It  was  said  that  the  noted  robber, 
Manuel  Borasco,  the  terror  of  the  Alpuxarras,  had 
fallen  into  the  clutches  of  old  governor  Manco,  and 
been  cooped  up  by  him  in  a  dungeon  of  the  Vermilion 


GOVERNOR  MANGO  AND  SOLDIER.  205 

towers,  and  every  one  who  had  been  robbed  by  him 
Hocked  .to  recognize  the  marauder.  The  Vermilion 
towers,  as  is  well  known,  stand  apart  from  the  Al- 
hambra,  on  a  sister  hill  separated  from  the  main 
fortress  by  the  lavine,  down  which  passes  the  maia 
avenue.  There  were  no  outer  walls,  but  a  sentinel 
patrolled  before  the  tower.  The  window  of  the 
chamber  in  which  the  soldier  was  confined  was 
strongly  grated,  and  looked  upon  a  small  esplanade. 
Here  the  good  folks  of  Granada  repaired  to  gaze  at 
him,  as  they  would  at  a  laughing  hyena  grinning 
through  the  cage  of  a  menagerie.  Nobody,  how 
ever,  recognized  him  for  Manuel  Borasco,  for  that 
terrible  robber  was  noted  for  a  ferocious  physiog 
nomy,  and  had  by  no  means  the  good-humoured 
squint  of  the  prisoner.  Visitors  came  not  merely 
from  the  city,  but  from  all  parts  of  the  country,  but 
nobody  knew  him,  and  there  began  to  be  doubts  in 
the  minds  of  the  common  people,  whether  there 
might  not  be  some  truth  in  his  story.  That  Boabdil 
and  his  army  were  shut  up  in  the  mountain,  was  an 
old  tradition  which  many  of  the  ancient  inhabitants 
had  heard  from  their  fathers.  Numbers  went  up  to 
the  mountain  of  the  Sun,  or  rather  of  St.  Elena,  in 
search  of  the  cave  mentioned  by  the  soldier ;  and 
saw  and  peeped  into  the  deep  dark  pit,  descending, 
no  one  knows  hou  far,  into  the  mountain,  and 
which  remains  there  to  this  day,  the  fabled  entrance 
to  the  subterranean  abode  of  Boabdil. 

By  degrees,  the  soldier  became  popular  with  the 
common  people.  A  freebooter  of  the  mountains  is 
by  no  means  the  opprobrious  character  in  Spain  that 
a  robber  is  in  any  other  country ;  on  the  contrary, 
he  is  a  kind  of  chivalrous  personage  in  the  eyes  of 
the  lower  classes.  There  is  always  a  disposition, 
also,  to  cavil  at  the  conduct  of  those  m  command, 
and  many  began  to  murmur  at  the  high-handed 
measures  of  old  governor  Manco,  and  to  look  upon 
the  prisoner  in  the  light  of  a  martyr. 


266  THE  ALHAMBRA, 

The  soldier,  moreover,  was  a  meriy,  waggish  fel 
low,  that  had  a  joke  for  every  one  who  cajne  near 
his  window,  and  a  soft  speech  for  every  female.  He 
had  procured  an  old  guitar  also,  and  would  sit  by  his 
window  and  sing  ballads  and  love-ditties  to  the  de 
light  of  the  women  of  the  neighbourhood,  who 
would  assemble  on  the  esplanade  in  the  evenings, 
and  dance  boleros  to  his  music.  Having  trimmed 
off  his  rough  beard,  his  sunburnt  face  found  favour 
in  the  eyes  of  the  fair,  and  the  demure  handmaid  of 
the  governor  declared  that  his  squint  was  perfectly 
irresistible.  This  kind-hearted  damsel  had,  from  the 
first,  evinced  a  deep  sympathy  in  his  fortunes,  and 
having  in  vain  tried  to  mollify  the  governor,  had  set 
to  work  privately  to  mitigate  the  rigour  of  his  dis 
pensations.  Every  day  she  brought  the  prisoner 
some  crumbs  of  comfort  which  had  fallen  from  the 
governor's  table,  or  been  abstracted  from  his  larder, 
together  with,  now  and  then,  a  consoling  bottle  of 
choice  Val  de  Penas,  or  rich  Malaga. 

While  this  petty  treason  was  going  on  in  the  very 
centre  of  the  old  governor's  citadel,  a  storm  of  open 
war  was  brewing  up  among  his  external  foes.  The 
circumstance  of  a  bag  of  gold  and  jewels  having 
been  found  upon  the  person  of  the  supposed  robber, 
had  been  reported  with  many  exaggerations  in 
Granada.  A  question  of  territorial  jurisdiction 
was  immediately  started  by  the  governor's  inveter 
ate  rival,  the  captain-general.  He  insisted  that  the 
prisoner  had  been  captured  without  the  precincts  of 
the  Alhambra,  and  within  the  rules  of  his  authority. 
He  demanded  his  body  therefore,  and  the  spolia 
opima  taken  with  him.  Due  information  having 
been  carried  likewise  by  the  friar  to  the  grand  In 
quisitor,  of  the  crosses,  and  the  rosaries,  and  other 
reliques  contained  in  the  bag,  he  claimed  the  culprit, 
as  having  been  guilty  of  sacrilege,  and  insisted  that 
his  plunder  was  due  to  the  church,  and  his  body  to 


GOVERNOR  MANGO  AND  SOLDIER.  267 

the  next  Auto  da  Fe.  The  feuds  ran  high ;  the  gov 
ernor  was  furious,  and  swore,  rather  than  surrender 
his  captive,  he  would  hang  him  up  within  the  Al- 
hambra,  as  a  spy  caught  within  the  purlieus  of  the 
fortress. 

The  captain-general  threatened  to  send  a  body  of 
soldiers  to  transfer  the  prisoner  from  the  Vermilion 
Bowers  to  the  city.  The  grand  Inquisitor  was 
equally  bent  upon  despatching  a  number  of  the  fa 
miliars  of  the  holy  office.  Word  was  brought  late 
at  night  to  the  governor,  of  these  machinations. 
"  Let  them  come,"  said  he,  "  they'll  find  me  before 
hand  with  them.  He  must  rise  bright  and  early  who 
would  take  in  an  old  soldier."  He  accordingly  issued 
orders  to  have  the  prisoner  removed  at  daybreak  to 
the  Donjon  Keep  within  the  walls  of  the  Alhambra : 
"  And  d'ye  hear,  child,"  said  he  to  his  demure  hand 
maid,  "  tap  at  my  door,  and  wake  me  before  cock- 
crowing,  that  I  may  see  to  the  matter  myself." 

The  day  dawned,  the  cock  crowed,  but  nobody 
tapped  at  the  door  of  the  governor.  The  sun  rose 
high  above  the  mountain-tops,  and  glittered  in  at 
his  casement  ere  the  governor  was  awakened  from 
his  morning  dreams  by  his  veteran  corporal,  who 
stood  before  him  with  terror  stamped  upon  his  iron 
visage. 

"  He's  off !  he's  gone  !  "  cried  the  corporal,  gasp 
ing  for  breath. 

"  Who's  off? — who's  gone  ?  " 

"  The  soldier — the  robber — the  devil,  for  aught  I 
know.  His  dungeon  is  empty,  but  the  door  locked. 
No  one  knows  how  he  has  escaped  out  of  it." 

"  Who  saw  him  last  ?  " 

"Your  handmaid, — she  brought  him  his  supper." 

"  Let  her  be  called  instantly." 

Here  was  new  matter  of  confusion.  The  chamber 
of  the  demure  damsel  was  likewise  empty;  her  bed 
had  not  been  slept  in ;  she  had  doubtless  e^one  off 


268  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

with,  the  culprit,  as  she  had  appeared,  for  some  days 
past,  to  have  frequent  conversations  with  him. 

This  was  wounding  the  old  governor  in  a  tender 
part,  but  he  had  scarce  time  to  wince  at  it,  when 
new  misfortunes  broke  upon  his  view.  On  going 
into  his  cabinet,  he  found  his  strong  box  open,  the 
leathern  purse  of  the  trooper  abstracted,  and  with  it 
a  couple  of  corpulent  bags  of  doubloons. 

But  how,  and  which  way  had  the  fugitives  escaped  ? 
A  peasant  who  lived  in  a  cottage  by  the  road-side 
leading  up  into  the  Sierra,  declared  that  he  had  heard 
the  tramp  of  a  powerful  steed,  just  before  daybreak, 
passing  up  into  the  mountains.  He  had  looked  out 
at  his  casement,  and  could  just  distinguish  a  horse 
man,  with  a  female  seated  before  him. 

"  Search  the  stables,"  cried  governor  Manco.  The 
stables  were  searched ;  all  the  horses  were  in  their 
stalls,  excepting  the  Arabian  steed.  In  his  place 
was  a  stout  cudgel  tied  to  the  manger,  and  on  it  a 
label  bearing  these  words,  "A  gift  to  governor 
Manco,  from  an  old  soldier." 


LEGEND    OF  THE   TWO 
DISCREET  STATUES. 

THERE  lived  once,  in  a  waste  apartment  of  the 
Alhambra,  a  merry  little  fellow  named  Lope  Sanchez, 
who  worked  in  the  gardens,  and  was  as  brisk  and 
blithe  as  a  grasshopper,  singing  all  day  long.  He 
was  the  life  and  soul  of  the  fortress ;  when  his  work 
was  over,  he  would  sit  on  one  of  the  stone  benches 
of  the  esplanade  and  strum  his  guitar,  and  sing  long 
ditties  about  the  Cid,  and  Bernardo  del  Carpio,  and 
Fernando  del  Pulgar,  and  other  Spanish  heroes,  for 
the  amusement  of  the  old  soldiers  of  the  fortress,  or 
would  strike  up  a  merrier  tune,  &£  ct  set  the  girls 
dancing  boleros  and  fandangos. 

Like  most  little  men,  Lope  Sanchez  had  a  strap 
ping  buxom  dame  for  a  wife,  who  could  almost  have 
put  him  in  her  pocket ;  but  he  lacked  the  usual  poor 
man's  lot, — instead  of  ten  children  he  had  but  one. 
This  was  a  little  black-eyed  girl,  about  twelve  years 
of  age,  named  Sanchica,  who  was  as  merry  as  him 
self,  and  the  delight  of  his  heart.  She  played  about 
him  as  he  worked  in  the  gardens,  danced  to  his  guitar 
as  he  sat  in  the  shade,  and  ran  as  wild  as  a  young 
fawn  about  the  groves,  and  alleys,  and  ruined  halls 
of  the  Alhambra. 

It  was  now  the  eve  of  the  blessed  St.  John,  and 
the  holiday-loving  gossips  of  the  Alhambra,  men, 


270  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

women,  and  children,  went  up  at  night  to  the  moun 
tain  of  the  Sun,  which  rises  above  the  Generaliffe,  to 
keep  their  midsummer  vigil  on  its  level  summit.  It 
was  a  bright  moonlight  night,  and  all  the  mountains 
were  gray  and  silvery,  and  the  city,  with  its  domes 
and  spires,  lay  in  shadows  below,  and  the  Vega  was 
like  a  fairy  land,  with  haunted  streams  gleaming 
among  its  dusky  groves.  On  the  highest  part  of  the 
mountain  they  lit  up  a  bale  fire,  according  to  an  old 
custom  of  the  country  handed  down  from  the  Moors. 
The  inhabitants  of  the  surrounding  country  were 
keeping  a  similar  vigil,  and  bale  fires  here  and  there 
in  the  Vega,  and  along  the  folds  of  the  mountains, 
blazed  up  palely  in  the  moonlight. 

The  evening  was  gaily  passed  in  dancing  to  the 
guitar  of  Lope  Sanchez,  who  was  never  so  joyous  as 
when  on  a  holiday  revel  of  the  kind.  While  the 
dance  was  going  on,  the  little  Sanchica  with  some 
of  her  playmates  sported  among  the  ruins  of  an  old 
Moorish  fort  that  crowns  the  mountain,  when,  on 
gathering  pebbles  in  the  fosse,  she  found  a  small 
hand,  curiously  carved  of  jet,  the  fingers  closed,  and 
the  thumb  firmly  clasped  upon  them.  Overjoyed 
with  her  good  fortune,  she  ran  to  her  mother  witr. 
her  prize.  It  immediately  became  a  subject  of  sag; 
speculation,  and  was  eyed  by  some  with  superstitious 
distrust.  "  Throw  it  away,"  said  one,  "  it  is  Moorish, 
—depend  upon  it  there's  mischief  and  witchcraft  in 
it."  "By  no  means,"  said  another,  "you  may  sell 
it  for  something  to  the  jewellers  of  the  Zacatin."  In 
the  midst  of  this  discussion  an  old  tawny  soldier  drew 
near,  who  had  served  in  Africa,  and  was  as  swarthy 
as  a  Moor.  He  examined  the  hand  with  a  knowing 
look.  "I  have  seen  things  of  this  kind,"  said  he, 
"among  the  Moors  of  Barbary.  It  is  of  great  value 
to  guard  against  the  evil  eye,  and  all  kinds  of  spells 
and  enchantments.  I  give  you  joy,  friend  Lope,  this 
bodes  good  luck  to  vour  child." 


THE  TWO  DISCREET  STATUES.    271 

Upon  hearing  this,  the  wife  of  Lope  Sanchez  tied 
the  little  hand  of  jet  to  a  riband,  and  hung  it  round 
the  neck  of  her  daughter. 

The  sight  of  this  talisman  called  up  all  the  favour 
ite  superstitions  about  the  Moors.  The  dance  was 
neglected,  and  they  sat  in  groups  on  the  ground, 
telling  old  legendary  tales  handed  down  from  their 
ancestors.  Some  of  their  stories  turned  upon  the 
wonders  of  the  very  mountain  upon  which  they  were 
seated,  which  is  a  famous  hobgoblin  region. 

One  ancient  crone  gave  a  long  account  of  the  sub 
terranean  palace  in  the  bowels  of  that  mountain, 
where  Boabdil  and  all  his  Moslem  court  are  said  to 
remain  enchanted.  "Among  yonder  ruins,"  said 
she,  pointing  to  some  crumbling  walls  and  mounds 
of  earth  on  a  distant  part  of  the  mountain,  "  there  is 
a  deep  black  pit  that  goes  down,  down  into  the  very 
heart  of  the  mountain.  For  all  the  money  in  Grana 
da,  I  would  not  look  down  into  it.  Once  upon  a 
time,  a  poor  man  of  the  Alhambra,  who  tended  goats 
upon  this  mountain,  scrambled  down  into  that  pit 
after  a  kid  that  had  fallen  in.  He  came  out  again; 
all  wild  and  staring,  and  told  such  things  of  what  he 
had  seen,  that  every  one  thought  his  brain  was 
turned.  He  raved  for  a  day  or  two  about  hobgoblin 
Moors  that  had  pursued  him  in  the  cavern,  and  could 
hardly  be  persuaded  to  drive  his  goats  up  again  to 
the  mountain.  He  did  so  at  last,  but,  poor  man,  he 
never  came  down  again.  The  neighbours  found  his 
goats  browsing  about  the  Moorish  ruins,  and  his  hat 
and  mantle  lying  near  the  mouth  of  the  pit,  but  he 
was  never  more  heard  of." 

The  little  Sanchica  listened  with  breathless  atten 
tion  to  this  story.  She  was  of  a  curious  nature,  and 
felt  immediately  a  great  hankering  to  peep  into  this 
dangerous  pit.  Stealing  away  from  her  companions, 
she  sought  the  distant  ruins,  and  after  groping  for 
some  time  among:  them,  came  to  a  small  hollow  or 


272  THE  ALIIAMBKA, 

basin,  near  the  brow  of  the  mountain,  where  it  swept 
steeply  down  into  the  valley  of  the  Darro.  In  the 
centre  of  this  basin  yawned  the  mouth  of  the  pit. 
Sanchica  ventured  to  the  verge  and  peeped  in.  All 
was  black  as  pitch,  and  gave  an  idea  of  immeasura 
ble  depth.  Her  blood  ran  cold— she  drew  back- 
then  peeped  again — then  would  have  run  away — 
then  took  another  peep — the  very  horror  of  the  thing 
was  delightful  to  her.  At  length  she  rolled  a  large 
stone,  and  pushed  it  over  the  brink.  For  some  time 
it  fell  in  silence  ;  then  struck  some  rocky  projection 
with  a  violent  crash,  then  rebounded  from  side  to 
side,  rumbling  and  tumbling,  with  a  noise  like  thun 
der,  then  made  a  final  splash  into  water,  far,  far  be 
low,  and  all  was  again  silent. 

The  silence,  however,  did  not  long  continue.  It 
seemed  as  if  something  had  been  awakened  within 
this  dreary  abyss.  A  murmuring  sound  gradually 
rose  out  of  the  pit  like  the  hum  and  buzz  of  a  bee 
hive.  It  grew  louder  and  louder:  there  was  the 
confusion  of  voices  as  of  a  distant  multitude,  together 
with  the  faint  din  of  arms,  clash  of  cymbals,  and 
clangour  of  trumpets,  as  if  some  army  were  marshal 
ling  for  battle  in  the  very  bowels  of  the  mountain. 

The  child  drew  off  with  silent  awe,  and  hastened 
back  to  the  place  where  she  had  left  her  parents  and 
their  companions.  All  were  gone.  The  bale  fire 
was  expiring,  and  its  last  wreath  of  smoke  curling 
up  in  the  moonshine.  The  distant  fires  that  had 
blazed  along  the  mountains  and  in  the  Vega  were 
all  extinguished  ;  every  thing  seemed  to  have  sunk 
to  repose.  Sanchica  called  her  parents  and  some  of 
her  companions  byname,  but  received  no  reply.  She 
ran  down  the  side  of  the  mountain,  and  by  the  gar 
dens  of  the  Generalise,  until  she  arrived  in  the  alley 
of  trees  leading  to  the  Alhambra,  where  she  seated 
herself  on  a  bench  of  a  woody  recess  to  recover 
breath.  The  bell  from  the  watch-tower  of  the  Al- 


THE  TWO  DIMHEET  STATUES.    273 

hambratold  midnight.  There  was  a  deep  tranquillity, 
as  if  all  nature  slept ;  excepting  the  low  tinkling  sound 
of  an  unseen  stream  that  ran  under  the  covert  of  the 
bushes.  The  breathing  sweetness  of  the  atmosphere 
was  lulling  her  to  sleep,  when  her  eye  was  caught 
by  something  glittering  at  a  distance,  and  to  her  sur 
prise,  she  beheld  a  long  cavalcade  of  Moorish  war 
riors  pouring  down  the  mountain  side,  and  along  the 
leafy  avenues.  Some  were  armed  with  lances  and 
shields  ;  others  with  scimitars  and  battle-axes,  and 
with  polished  cuirasses  that  flashed  in  the  moon 
beams.  Their  horses  pranced  proudly,  and  champ 
ed  upon  the  bit,  but  their  tramp  caused  no  more 
sound  than  if  they  had  been  shod  with  felt,  and  the 
riders  were  all  as  pale  as  death.  Among  them  rode 
a  beautiful  lady  with  a  crowned,  head  and  long  golden 
locks  entwined  with  pearls.  The  housings  of  her 
palfrey  were  of  crimson  velvet  embroidered  with 
gold,  and  swept  the  earth  ;  but  she  rode  all  discon 
solate,  with  eyes  ever  fixed  upon  the  ground. 

Then  s^cceejled  a  train  of  courtiers  magnificently 
arrayed  in  robes  and  turbans  of  divers  colours,  and 
amidst  these,  on  a  cream-coloured  charger,  roce 
king  Boabdil  el  Chico,  in  a  royal  mantle  covered 
with  jewels,  and  a  crown  sparkling  with  diamonds. 
The  little  Sanchica  knew  him  by  his  yellow  beard, 
and  his  resemblance  to  his  portrait,  which  she  had 
often  seen  in  the  picture  gallery  of  the  Generaliffe. 
She  gazed  in  wonder  and  admiration  at  this  royal 
pageant  as  it  passed  glistening  among  the  trees,  but 
though  she  knew  these  monarchs,  and  courtiers,  and 
warriors,  so  pale  and  silent,  were  out  of  the  common 
course  of  nature,  and  things  of  magic  or  enchant 
ment,  yet  she  looked  on  with  a  bold  heart,  such 
courage  did  she  derive  from  the  mystic  talisman  of 
the  hand  which  was  suspended  about  her  neck. 

The  cavalcade  having  passed  by,  she  rose  and  fol 
lowed.  It  continued  on  to  the  great  gate  of  Justice, 


274  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

which  stood  wide  open  ;  the  old  invalid  sentinels  on 
duty,  lay  on  the  stone  benches  of  the  Barbican,  bur 
ied  in  profound  and  apparently  charmed  sleep,  and 
the  phantom  pageant  swept  noiselessly  by  them  with 
flaunting  banner  and  triumphant  state.  Sanchica 
would  have  followed,  but,  to  her  surprise,  she  beheld 
an  opening  in  the  earth  within  the  Barbican,  leading 
down  beneath  the  foundations  of  the  tower.  She 
entered  for  a  little  distance,  and  was  encouraged  tc 
proceed  by  finding  steps  rudely  hewn  in  the  rock, 
and  a  vaulted  passage  here  and  there  lit  up  by  a  sil 
ver  lamp,  which,  while  it  gave  light,  diffused  like 
wise  a  grateful  fragrance.  Venturing  on,  she  came 
at  last  to  a  great  hall  wrought  out  of  the  heart  of  the 
mountain,  magnificently  furnished  in  the  Moorish 
style,  and  lighted  up  by  silver  and  crystal  lamps. 
Here  on  an  ottoman  sat  an  old  man  in  Moorish  dress, 
with  a  long  white  beard,  nodding  and  dozing,  with 
a  staff  in  his  hand,  which  seemed  ever  to  be  slipping 
from  his  grasp  ;  while  at  a  little  distance,  sat  a  Leau- 
tiful  lady,  in  ancient  Spanish  dress,  with  a  coronet 
all  sparkling  with  diamonds,  and  her  hair  entwined 
with  pearls,  who  was  softly  playing  on  a  silver  lyre. 
The  little  Sanchica  now  recollected  a  story  she  had 
heard  among  the  old  people  of  the  Alhambra,  con 
cerning  a  Gothic  princess  confined  in  the  centre  of 
the  mountain  by  an  old  Arabian  magician,  whom  she 
kept  bound  up  in  magic  sleep  by  the  power  of  music. 

The  lady  paused  with  surprise,  at  seeing  a  mortal 
in  that  enchanted  hall.  "  Is  it  the  eve  of  the  blessed 
St.  John  ?  "  said  she. 

"It  is,"  replied  Sanchica. 

"  Then  for  one  night  the  magic  charm  is  sus 
pended.  Come  hither,  child,  and  fear  not,  I  am  a 
Christian  like  thyself,  though  bound  here  by  en 
chantment.  Touch  my  fetters  with  the  talisman 
that  hangs  about  thy  neck,  and  for  this  night  I  shall 
be  free." 


THE  TWO  DISCREET  STATUES.    275 

So  saying,  she  opened  her  robes  and  displayed  a 
broad  golden  band  round  her  waist,  and  a  golden, 
chain  that  fastened  her  to  the  ground.  The  child 
hesitated  not  to  apply  the  little  hand  of  jet  to  the 
golden  band,  and  immediately  the  chain  fell  to  the 
earth.  At  the  sound  the  old  man  awoke,  and  began 
to  rub  his  eyes,  but  the  lady  ran  her  ringers  over  the 
chords  of  the  lyre,  and  again  he  fell  into  a  slumber 
and  began  to  nod,  and  his  staff  to  falter  in  his  hand. 
"  Now,"  said  the  lady,  "touch  his  staff  with  the  tal- 
ismanic  hand  of  jet."  The  child  did  so,  and  it  fell 
from  his  grasp,  and  he  sunk  in  a  deep  sleep  on  the 
ottoman.  The  lady  gently  laid  the  silver  lyre  on  the 
ottoman,  leaning  it  against  the  head  of  the  sleeping 
magician,  then  touching  the  chords  until  they  vibra 
ted  in  his  ear,  "  O  potent  spirit  of  harmony,"  said 
she,  "  continue  thus  to  hold  his  senses  in  thraldom 
till  the  return  of  day."  "  Now  follow  me,  my  child," 
continued  she,  "  and  thou  shalt  behold  «hc  Alhambra 
as  it  was  in  the  days  of  its  glory,  for  thou  hast  a 
i*  talisman  that  reveals  afl  enchantments." 


Sanchica  followed  the  lady  in  silence.  They  passed 
ap  through  the  entrance  of  the  cavern  into  the  Bar 
bican  of  the  gate  of  Justice,  and  thence  to  the  Plaza 

le  las  Algibes,  or  esplanade   within   the  fortress. 

This  was  all  filled  with  Moorish  soldiery,  horse  and 
loot,  marshalled  in  squadrons,  with  banners  display 
ed.  There  were  royal  guards  also  at  the  portal,  and 
rows  of  African  blacks  with  drawn  scimitars.  No 
one  spoke  a  word,  and  Sanchica  passed  on  fearlessly 
after  her  conductor.  Her  astonishment  increased  on 
entering  the  royal  palace,  in  which  she  had  been 
reared.  The  broad  moonshine  lit  up  all  the  halls, 
and  courts,  and  gardens,  almost  as  brightly  as  if  it 
were  day  ;  but  revealed  a  far  different  scene  from 
that  to  which  she  was  accustomed.  The  walls  of  the 
apartments  were  no  longer  stained  and  rent  by  time. 
Instead  of  cobwebs,  they  were  now  hung  with  rich 


276  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

silks  of  Damascus,  and  the  gildings  and  arabesque 
paintings  were  restored  to  their  original  brilliancy 
and  freshness.  The  halls,  instead  of  being  naked 
and  unfurnished,  were  set  out  with  divans  and  otto 
mans  of  the  rarest  stuffs,  embroidered  with  pearls, 
and  studded  with  precious  gems,  and  all  the  foun 
tains  in  the  courts  and  gardens  were  playing. 

The  kitchens  were  again  in  full  operation ;  cooks 
were  busied  preparing  shadowy  dishes,  and  roasting 
and  boiling  the  phantoms  of  pullets  and  partridges  ; 
servants  were  hurrying  to  and  fro  with  silver  dishes 
heaped  up  with  dainties,  and  arranging  a  delicious  ban 
quet.  The  court  of  Lions  was  thronged  with  guards, 
and  courtiers,  and  alfaquis,  as  in  the  old  times  of  the 
Moors ;  and  at  the  upper  end,  in  the  saloon  of  judg 
ment,  sat  Boabdil  on  his  throne,  surrounded  by  his 
court,  and  swayed  a  shadowy  sceptre  for  the  night. 

Notwithstanding  all  this  throng  and  seeming 
bustle,  not  a  voice  or  footstep  was  to  be  heard ; 
nothing  interrupted  the  midnight  silence  but  the 
plashing  of  the  fountains.  The  little  Sanchica  fol 
lowed  her  conductress  in  mute  amazement  about  the 
palace,  until  they  came  to  a  portal  opening  to  the 
vaulted  passages  beneath  the  great  tower  of  Co- 
mares.  On  each  side  of  the  portal  sat  the  figure  of 
a  nymph,  wrought  out  of  alabaster.  Their  heads 
were  turned  aside,  and  their  regards  fixed  upon  the 
same  spot  within  the  vault.  The  enchanted  lady 
paused,  and  beckoned  the  child  to  her.  "  Here," 
said  she,  "  is  a  great  secret,  which  I  will  reveal  to 
thee  in  reward  for  thy  faith  and  courage.  These 
discreet  statues  watch  over  a  mighty  treasure  hid 
den  in  old  times  by  a  Moorish  king.  Tell  thy 
father  to  search  the  spot  on  which  their  eyes  are 
fixed,  and  he  will  find  what  will  make  him  richer 
than  any  man  in  Granada.  Thy  innocent  hands 
dlone,  however,  gifted  as  thou  art  also  with  the  talis 
man,  can  remove  the  treasure.  Bid  thy  father  use 


THE  TWO  DISCREET  STATUES.    277 

it  discreetly,  and  devote  a  part  of  it  to  the  perform 
ance  of  daily  masses  for  my  deliverance  from  this 
unholy  enchantment." 

When  the  lady  had  spoken  these  words,  she  led 
the  child  onward  to  the  little  garden  of  Lindaraxa, 
which  is  hard  by  the  vault  of  the  statues.  The 
moon  trembled  upon  the  waters  of  the  solitary 
fountain  in  the  centre  of  the  garden,  and  shed  a 
tender  light  upon  the  orange  and  citron  trees.  The 
beautiful  lady  plucked  a  branch  of  myrtle  and 
wreathed  it  round  the  head  of  the  child.  "  Let  this 
be  a  memento,"  said  she,  "of  what  I  have  revealed 
to  thee,  and  a  testimonial  of  its  truth.  My  hour  is 
come. — I  must  return  to  the  enchanted  hall  ;  follow 
me  not,  lest  evil  befall  thee ;  farewell,  remember 
what  I  have  said,  and  have  masses  performed  for 
my  deliverance."  So  saying,  the  lady  entered  a  dark 
pa'ssage  leading  beneath  the  towers  of  Comares,  and 
was  no  longer  to  be  seen. 

The  faint  crowing  of  a  cock  was  now  heard  from 
the  cottages  below  the  Alhambra,  n  the  valley  of 
the  Darro,  and  a  pale  streak  of  light  began  to  appeal 
above  the  eastern  mountains.  A  slight  wind  arose  , 
there  was  a  sound  like  the  rustling  of  dry  leaves 
through  the  courts  and  corridors,  and  door  after 
door  shut  to  with  a  jarring  sound.  Sanchica  re 
turned  to  the  scenes  she  had  so  lately  beheld 
thronged  with  the  shadowy  multitude,  but  Boabdil 
and  his  phantom  court  were  gone. 

The  moon  shone  into  empty  halls  and  galleries, 
stripped  of  their  transient  splendour,  stained  and 
dilapidated  by  time,  and  hung  with  cobwebs ;  the 
bat  flitted  about  in  the  uncertain  light,  and  the  frog 
croaked  from  the  fish-pond. 

Sanchica  now  made  the  best  of  her  way  to  a  re 
mote  staircase  that  led  up  to  the  humble  apartment 
occupied  by  her  family.  The  door  as  usual  was 
open,  for  Lope  Sanchez  was  too  poor  to  need  bolt  or 


278  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

bar  :  she  crept  quietly  to  her  pallet,  and,  putting 
the  myrtle  wreath  beneath  her  pillow,  soon  fell 
asleep. 

In  the  morning  she  related  all  that  had  befallen 
her  to  her  father.  Lope  Sanchez,  however,  treated 
the  whole  as  a  mere  dream,  and  laughed  at  the 
child  for  her  credulity.  He  wei.t  forth  to  his  cus 
tomary  labours  in  the  garden,  but  had  not  been 
there  long  when  his  little  daughter  came  running  to 
him  almost  breathless.  "  Father  !  father  !  "  cried 
she,  "  behold  the  myrtle  wreath  which  the  Moorish 
lady  bound  round  my  head." 

Lope  Sanchez  gazed  with  astonishment,  for  the 
stalk  of  the  myrtle  was  of  pure  gold,  and  every  leaf 
was  a  sparkling  emerald  !  Being  not  much  accus 
tomed  to  precious  stones,  he  was  ignorant  of  the 
real  value  of  the  wreath,  but  he  saw  enough  to  con 
vince  him  that  it  was  something  more  substantial 
than  the  stuff  that  dreams  are  generally  made  of, 
and  that  at  any  rate  the  child  had  dreamt  to  some 
purpose.  His  first  care  was  to  enjoin  the  most 
absolute  secrecy  upon  his  daughter  ;  in  this  respect, 
however,  he  was  secure,  for  she  had  discretion  far 
beyond  her  years  or  sex.  He  then  repaired  to  the 
vault  where  stood  the  statues  of  the  two  alabaster 
nymphs.  He  remarked  that  their  heads  were  turned 
from  the  portal,  and  that  the  regards  of  each  were 
fixed  upon  the  same  point  in  the  interior  of  the  build 
ing.  Lope  Sanchez  could  not  but  admire  this  most 
discreet  contrivance  for  guarding  a  secret.  He  drew 
a  line  from  the  eyes  of  the  statues  to  the  point  of 
regard,  made  a  private  mark  on  the  wall,  and  then 
retired. 

All  day,  however,  the  mind  of  Lope  Sanchez  was 
distracted  with  a  thousand  cares.  He  could  not 
help  hovering  within  distant  view  of  the  two  statues, 
and  became  nervous  from  the  dread  that  the  golden 
secret  might  be  discovered.  Every  footstep  that 


THE  TWO  DISCREET  STATUES.    279 

approached  the  place,  made  him  tremble.  He  would 
have  given  anything1  could  he  but  turn  the  heads 
of  the  statues,  forgetting  that  they  had  looked  pre 
cisely  in  the  same  direction  for  some  hundreds  of 
years,  without  any  person  being  the  wiser.  "A 
plague  upon  them,"  he  would  say  to  himself,  "  they'll 
betray  all.  Did  ever  mortal  hear  of  such  a  mode  of 
guarding  a  secret  ! "  Then,  on  hearing  any  one 
advance  he  would  steal  off,  as  though  his  very  lurk 
ing  near  the  place  would  awaken  suspicions.  Then 
he  would  return  cautiously,  and  peep  from  a  distance 
to  see  if  every  thing  was  secure,  but  the  sight  of  the 
statues  would  again  call  forth  his  indignation.  "Aye, 
there  they  stand,"  would  he  say,  "  always  looking, 
and  looking,  and  looking,  just  where  they  should 
not,  Confound  them !  they  are  just  like  all  their 
sex;  if  they  have  not  tongues  to  tattle  wi:h,  they'll 
be  sure  to  do  it  with  their  eyes ! " 

At  length,  to  his  relief,  the  long  anxious  day  drew 
to  a  close.  The  sound  of  footsteps  was  no  longer 
heard  in  the  echoing  halls  of  the  Alhambra ;  the 
last  stranger  passed  the  threshold,  the  great  portal 
was  barred  and  bolted,  and  the  bat,  and  the  frog, 
and  the  hooting  owl  gradually  resumed  their  nightly 
vocations  in  the  deserted  palace. 

Lope  Sanchez  waited,  however,  until  the  night 
was  far  advanced,  before  he  ventured  with  his  little 
daughter  to  the  hall  of  the  two  nymphs.  He  found 
them  looking  as  knowingly  and  mysteriously  as 
ever,  at  the  secret  place  of  deposit.  "By  your 
leaves,  gentle  ladies,"  thought  Lope  Sanchez  as  he 
passed  between  them,  "  I  will  relieve  you  from  this 
charge  that  must  have  set  so  heavy  in  your  minds 
tor  the  last  two  or  three  centuries."  He  accordingly 
went  to  work  at  the  part  of  the  wall  which  he  had 
marked,  and  in  a  little  while  laid  open  a  concealed 
recess,  in  which  stood  two  great  jars  of  porcelain. 
He  attempted  to  draw  them  forth,  but  they  were  in> 


280  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

movable  until  touched  by  the  innocent  hand  of  his 
Tittle  daughter.  With  her  aid  he  dislodged  them 
firom  their  niche,  and  found,  to  his  great  joy,  that 
they  were  filled  with  pieces  of  Moorish  gold,  mingled 
with  jewels  and  precious  stones.  Before  daylight  he 
managed  to  convey  them  to  his  chamber,  and  left 
the  two  guardian  statues  with  their  eyes  still  fixed 
on  the  vacant  wall. 

Lope  Sanchez  had  thus  on  a  sudden  become  a 
rich  man,  but  riches,  as  usual,  brought  a  world  of 
cares,  to  which  he  had  hitherto  been  a  stranger. 
How  was  he  to  convey  away  his  wealth  with  safety  ? 
How  was  he  even  to  enter  upon  the  enjoyment  of  it 
without  awakening  suspicion  ?  Now  too,  for  the 
first  time  in  his  life,  the  dread  of  robbers  entered 
into  his  mind.  He  looked  with  terror  at  the  inse 
curity  of  his  habitation,  and  went  to  work  to  barri 
cade  the  doors  and  windows ;  yet  after  all  his  pre 
cautions,  he  could  not  sleep  soundly.  His  usual 
gaiety  was  at  an  end ;  he  had  no  longer  a  joke  or  a 
song  for  his  neighbours,  and,  in  short,  became  the 
most  miserable  animal  in  the  Alhambra.  His  old 
comrades  remarked  this  alteration ;  pitied  him 
heartily,  and  began  to  desert  him,  thinking  he  must 
be  falling  into  want,  and  in  danger  of  looking  to 
them  for  assistance  ;  little  did  they  suspect  that  his 
only  calamity  was  riches. 

The  wife  of  Lope  Sanchez  shared  his  anxiety ; 
but  then  she  had  ghostly  comfort.  We  ought  be 
fore  this  to  have  mentioned,  that  Lope  being  rather 
a  light,  inconsiderate  little  man,  his  wife  was  ac 
customed,  in  all  grave  matters,  to  seek  the  counsel 
and  ministry  of  her  confessor,  Fray  Simon,  a  sturdy, 
broad-shouldered,  blue-bearded,  bullet-headed  friar 
of  the  neighbouring  convent  of  San  Francisco,  who 
was,  in  fact,  the  spiritual  comforter  of  half  the  good 
wives  of  the  neighbourhood.  He  was,  moreover,  in 
great  esteem  among  divers  sisterhoods  of  nuns,  who 


THE  TWO  DISCREET  STATUES.    281 

requited  him  for  his  ghostly  services  by  frequeni 
presents  of  those  little  dainties  and  nicknacks 
manufactured  in  convents,  such  as  delicate  con 
fections,  sweet  biscuits,  and  bottles  of  spiced  cor 
dials,  found  to  be  marvellous  restoratives  after  fasts 
and  vigils. 

Fray  Simon  thrived  in  the  exercise  of  his  func 
tions.  His  oily  skin  glistened  in  the  sunshine  as  he 
toiled  up  the  hill  of  the  Alhambra  on  a  sultry  day. 
Yet  notwithstanding  his  sleek  condition,  the  knotted 
rope  round  his  waist  showed  the  austerity  of  his  self- 
discipline  ;  the  multitude  doffed  their  caps  to  him  as 
a  mirror  of  piety,  and  even  the  dogs  scented  the 
odo'ir  of  sanctity  that  exhaled  from  his  garments, 
and  howled  from  their  kennels  as  he  passed. 

Such  was  Fray  Simon,  the  spiritual  counsellor 
of  the  comely  wife  of  Lope  Sanchez,  and  as  the 
father  confessor  is  the  domestic  conf  dant  of  women 
in  humble  life  in  Spain,  he  was  soon  made  ac 
quainted,  in  great  secrecy,  with  the  story  of  the  hid 
den  treasure. 

The  friar  opened  eyes  and  mouth,  and  crossed 
himself  a  dozen  times  at  the  news.  After  a  mo 
ment's  pause,  "  Daughter  of  my  soul ! "  said  he, 
"  know  that  thy  husband  has  committed  a  double 
sin,  a  sin  against  both  state  and  church  !  The 
treasure  he  has  thus  seized  upon  for  himself,  being 
found  in  the  royal  domains,  belongs  of  course  to  the 
crown  ;  but  being  infidel  wealth,  rescued,  as  it  were, 
from  the  very  fangs  of  Satan,  should  be  devoted  to 
the  church.  Still,  however,  the  matter  may  be  ac 
commodated.  Bring  hither  the  myrtle  wreath." 

When  the  good  father  beheld  it,  his  eyes  twinkled 
more  than  ever,  with  admiration  of  the  size  and 
beauty  of  the  emeralds.  "This,"  said  he,  "being 
the  first  fruits  of  this  discovery,  should  be  dedicated 
to  pious  purposes.  I  will  hang  it  up  as  a  votive 
offering  before  the  image  of  San  Francisco  in  our 


282  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

Chapel,  and  will  earnestly  pray  to  him,  this  very 
night,  that  your  husband  be  permitted  to  remain 
in  quiet  possession  of  your  wealth." 

The  good  dame  was  delighted  to  make  her  peace 
with  heaven  at  so  cheap  a  rate,  and  the  friar,  put 
ting  the  wreath  under  his  mantle,  departed  with 
saintly  steps  towards  his  convent. 

When  Lope  Sanchez  came  home,  his  wife  told 
him  what  had  passed.  He  was  excessively  pro 
voked,  for  he  lacked  his  wife's  devotion,  and  had  for 
some  time  groaned  in  secret  at  the  domestic  visita 
tions  of  the  friar.  "  Woman,"  said  he,  "  what  hast 
thou  done  !  Thou  hast  put  every  thing  at  hazard 
by  thy  tattling." 

"What!"  cried  the  good  woman,  "would  you 
forbid  my  disburdening  my  conscience  to  my  con 
fessor?  " 

"No,  wife  !  confess  as  many  of  your  own  sins  as 
you  please  ;  but  as  to  this  money-digging,  it  is  a  sin 
of  my  own,  and  my  conscience  is  very  easy  under 
the  weight  of  it." 

There  was  no  use,  however,  in  complaining ;  the 
secret  was  told,  and,  like  water  spilled  on  the  sand, 
was  not  again  to  be  gathered.  Their  only  chance 
was,  that  the  friar  would  be  discreet. 

The  next  day,  while  Lope  Sanchez  was  abroad, 
there  was  an  humble  knocking  at  the  door,  and 
Fray  Simon  entered  with  meek  and  demure  coun 
tenance. 

"  Daughter,"  said  he,  "  I  have  prayed  earnestly 
to  San  Francisco,  and  he  has  heard  my  prayer.  In 
the  dead  of  the  night  the  saint  appeared  to  me  in  a 
dream,  but  with  a  frowning  aspect.  '  Why,'  said 
he,  'dost  thou  pray  to  me  to  dispense  with  this 
treasure  of  the  Gentiles,  when  thou  seest  the  poverty 
of  my  chapel  ?  Go  to  the  house  of  Lope  Sanchez, 
crave  in  my  name  a  portion  of  the  Moorish  gold  to 
furnish  two  candlesticks  for  the  main  ^tar,  and  let 
him  possess  the  residue  in  peace.'  " 


THE  TWO  DISCREET  STATUES.    283 

When  the  good  woman  heard  of  this  vision,  she 
crossed  herself  with  awe,  and  going  to  the  secret 
place  where  Lope  had  hid  the  treasure,  she  filled  a 
great  leathern  purse  with  pieces  of  Moorish  gold, 
and  gave  it  to  the  friar.  The  pious  monk  bestowed 
upon  her  in  return,  benedictions  enough,  if  prid  by 
heaven,  to  enrich  her  race  to  the  latest  posterity ; 
then  slipping  the  purse  into  the  sleeve  of  his  habit, 
he  folded  his  hands  upon  his  breast,  and  departed 
with  an  air  of  humble  thankfulness. 

When  Lope  Sanchez  heard  of  this  second  dona 
tion  to  the- church,  he  had  well  nigh  lost  his  senses. 
"  Unfortunate  man,"  cried  he,  "  what  will  become 
of  me  ?  I  shall  be  robbed  by  piecemeal ;  I  shall  be 
ruined  and  brought  to  beggary  !  " 

Jt  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  that  his  wife 
could  pacify  him  by  reminding  him  of  the  countless 
wealth  that  yet  remained ;  and  how  considerate  it 
was  for  San  Francisco  to  rest  contented  with  so 
very  small  a  portion. 

Unluckily,  Fray  Sisaon  had  a  number  of  poor  re 
lations  to  be  provided  for,  not  to  mention  some  half 
dozen  sturdy,  bullet-headed  orphan  children  and 
destitute  foundlings,  that  he  had  taken  under  his 
care.  He  repeated  his  visits,  therefore,  from  day  to 
day,  with  salutations  on  behalf  of  Saint  Dominick, 
Saint  Andrew,  Saint  James,  until  poor  Lope  was 
driven  to  despair,  and  found  that,  unless  he  got  out 
of  the  reach  of  this  holy  friar,  he  should  have  to 
make  peace  offerings  to  every  saint  in  the  kalendar. 
He  determined,  therefore,  to  pack  up  his  remaining 
wealth,  beat  a  secret  retreat  in  the  night,  and  make 
off  to  another  part  of  the  kingdom. 

Full  of  his  project,  he  bought  a  stout  mule  for  the 
purpose,  and  tethered  it  in  a  gloomy  vault,  under 
neath  the  tower  of  the  Seven  Floors.  The  very 
place  from  whence  the  Bellado,  or  goblin  horse 
without  a  head,  is  said  to  issue  forth  at  midnight 


384  THE  ALHAMKliA. 

and  to  scour  the  streets  of  Granada,  pursued  by  a 
pack  of  hell-hounds.  Lope  Sanchez  had  little  faith 
in  the  story,  but  availed  himself  of  the  dread  oc 
casioned  by  it,  knowing  that  no  one  would  be  likely 
to  pry  into  the  subterranean  stable  of  the  phantom 
steed.  He  sent  off  his  family  in  the  course  of  the 
day,  with  orders  to  wait  for  him  at  a  distant  village 
of  the  Vega.  As  the  night  advanced,  he  conveyed 
his  treasure  to  the  vault  under  the  tower,  and  having 
loaded  his  mule,  he  led  it  forth,  and  cautiously  de 
scended  the  dusky  avenue. 

Honest  Lope  had  taken  his  measures  with  the  ut 
most  secrecy,  imparting  them  to  no  one  but  the 
faithful  wife  of  his  bosom.  By  some  miraculous 
revelation,  however,  they  became  known  to  Fray 
Simon ;  the  zealous  friar  beheld  these  infidel  treas 
ures  on  the  point  of  slipping  for  ever  out  of  his 
grasp,  and  determined  to  have  one  more  dash  at 
them  for  the  benefit  of  the  church  and  San  Fran 
cisco.  Accordingly,  when  the  bells  had  rung  for 
animas,  and  all  the  Alhambra  was  quiet,  he  stole 
out  of  his  convent,  and,  descending  through  the 
gate  of  Justice,  concealed  himself  among  the  thickets 
of  roses  and  laurels  that  border  the  great  avenue. 
Here  he  remained,  counting  the  quarters  of  hours 
as  they  were  sounded  on  the  bell  of  the  watch- 
tower,  and  listening  to  the  dreary  hootings  of 
owls,  and  the  distant  barking  of  dogs  from  the 
gipsy  caverns. 

At  length,  he  heard  the  tramp  of  hoofs,  and, 
through  the  gloom  of  the  overshadowing  trees,  im 
perfectly  beheld  a  steed  descending  the  avenue.  The 
sturdy  friar  chuckled  at  the  idea  of  the  knowing  turn 
he  was  about  to  serve  honest  Lope.  Tucking  up 
the  skirts  of  his  habit,  and  wriggling  like  a  cat 
watching  a  mouse,  he  waited  until  his  prey  was  di 
rectly  before  him,  when  darting  forth  from  his  leafy 
covert,  and  putting  one  hand  on  the  shoulder,  and 


THE  TWO  DISCREET  STATUES.    « 

the  other  on  the  crupper,  he  made  a  vault  that  would 
not  have  disgraced  the  most  experienced  master  of 
equitation,  and  alighted  well  forked  astride  the  steed. 
"Aha! "said  the  sturdy  friar,  "we  shall  now  see 
who  best  understands  the  game." 

He  had  scarce  uttered  the  words,  when  the  mule 
began  to  kick  and  rear  and  plunge,  and  then  set  off 
at  full  speed  down  the  hill.  The  friar  attempted  to 
check  him,  but  in  vain.  He  bounded  from  rock  to 
rock,  and  bush  to  bush ;  the  friar's  habit  was  torn 
to  ribands,  and  fluttered  in  the  wind  ;  his  shaven  poll 
received  many  a  hard  knock  from  the  branches  of 
the  trees,  and  many  a  scratch  from  the  brambles. 
To  add  to  his  terror  and  distress,  he  found  a  pack 
jf  seven  hounds  in  full  cry  at  his  heels,  and  per 
ceived,  too  late,  that  he  was  actually  mounted  upsn 
the  terrible  Bellado ! 

Away  they  went,  according  to  the  ancient  phrase, 
"pull  devil,  pull  friar,"  down  the  great  avenue, 
across  the  Plaza  Nueva,  along  the  Zacatin,  around 
the  Vivarambla, — never  did  huntsman  and  hound 
make  a  more  furious  run,  or  more  infernal  uproar. 

In  vain  did  the  friar  invoke  every  saint  in  the  kal- 
endar,  and  the  holy  virgin  into  the  bargain  ;  every 
time  he  mentioned  a  name  of  the  kind,  it  was  like  a 
fresh  application  of  the  spur,  and  made  the  Bellado 
bound  as  high  as  a  house.  Through  the  remainder 
of  the  night  was  the  unlucky  Fray  Simon  carried 
hither  and  thither  and  whither  he  would  not,  until 
every  bone  in  his  body  ached,  and  he  suffered  a  loss 
of  leather  too  grievous  to  be  mentioned.  At  length, 
the  crowing  of  a  cock  gave  the  signal  of  returning 
day.  At  the  sound,  the  goblin  steed  wheeled  about, 
and  galloped  back  for  his  tower.  Again  he  scoured 
the  Vivarambla,  the  Zacarin,  the  Plaza  Nueva,  and 
the  avenue  of  fountains,  the  seven  dogs  yelling  and 
barking,  and  leaping  up,  and  snapping  at  the  heels 
of  the  terrified  friar.  The  first  streak  of  day  had 


286  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

just  appeared  as  they  reached  the  tower ;  here  the 
goblin  steed  kicked  up  his  heels,  sent  the  friar  a 
somerset  through  the  air,  plunged  into  the  dark  vault 
followed  by  the  infernal  pack,  and  a  profound  si 
lence  succeeded  to  the  late  deafening  clamour. 

Was  ever  so  diabolical  a  trick  played  off  upon  holy 
friar  ?  A  peasant  going  to  his  labours  at  early  dawn, 
found  the  unfortunate  Fray  Simon  lying  under  a  fig- 
tree  at  the  foot  of  the  tower,  but  so  bruised  and  be 
deviled,  that  he  could  neither  speak  nor  move.  He 
was  conveyed  with  all  care  and  tenderness  to  his 
cell,  and  the  story  went  that  he  had  been  waylaid 
and  maltreated  by  robbers.  A  day  or  two  elapsed 
before  he  recovered  the  use  of  his  limbs :  he  con 
soled  himself  in  the  mean  time,  with  the  thoughts 
that  though  the  mule  with  the  treasure  had  escaped 
him,  he  had  previously  had  some  rare  pickings  at 
the  infidel  spoils.  His  first  care  on  being  able  to 
use  his  limbs,  was  to  search  beneath  his  pallet, 
where  he  had  secreted  the  myrtle  wreath  and  the 
leathern  pouches  of  gold,  extracted  from  the  piety 
of  dame  Sanchez.  What  was  his  dismay  at  finding 
the  wreath,  in  effect,  but  a  withered  branch  of  myr 
tle,  and  the  leathern  pouches  filled  with  sand  and 
gravel ! 

Fray  Simon,  with  all  his  chagrin,  had  the  discre 
tion  to  hold  his  tongue,  for  to  betray  the  secret 
might  draw  on  him  the  ridicule  of  the  public,  ana 
the  punishment  of  his  superior;  it  was  not  until 
many  years  afterwards,  on  his  death-bed,  that  he 
revealed  to  his  confessor  his  nocturnal  ride  on  the 
Bellado. 

Nothing  was  heard  of  Lope  Sanchez  for  a  long 
time  after  his  disappearance  from  the  Alhambra 
His  memory  was  always  cherished  as  that  of  a  merry 
companion,  though  it  was  feared,  from  the  care  and 
melancholy  showed  in  his  conduct  shortly  before  his 
mysterious  departure,  that  poverty  and  distress  had 


THE  TWO  DISCREET  STATUES.    287 

driven  him  to  some  extremity.  Some  years  after 
wards,  one  of  his  old  companions,  an  invalid  sol 
dier,  being  at  Malaga,  was  knocked  down  and  nearly 
run  over  by  a  coach  and  six.  The  carriage  stopped  ; 
an  old  gentleman,  magnificently  dressed,  with  a  bag- 
wig  and  sword,  stepped  out  to  assist  the  poor  inva 
lid.  What,  was  the  astonishment  of  the  latter  to 
behold  in  this  grand  cavalier,  his  old  friend  Lope 
Sanchez,  who  was  actually  celebrating  the  marriage 
of  his  daughter  Sanchica,  with  one  of  the  first  gran 
dees  in  the  land. 

The  carriage  contained  the  bridal  party.  There 
was  dame  Sanchez  now  grown  as  round  as  a  barrel, 
and  dressed  out  with  feathers  and  jewels,  and  neck 
laces  of  pearls,  and  necklaces  of  diamonds,  and  rings 
on  every  finger,  and  altogether  a  finery  ol  apparel 
that,  had  not  been  seen  since  the  days  ot  Queen 
.Sheba.  The  little  Sanchica  had  now  grown  to  be  a 
woman,  and  for  grace  and  beauty  might  have  been 
mistaken  for  a  duchess,  if  not  a  princess  outright. 
The  bridegroom  sat  beside  her,  rather  a  withered, 
spindle-shanked  little  man,  but  this  only  proved  him 
to  be  of  the  true  blue  blood,  a  legitimate  Spanish 
grandee  being  rarely  above  three  cubits  in  stature. 
The  match  had  been  of  the  mother's  making. 

Riches  had  not  spoiled  the  heart  of  honest  Lope. 
He  kept  his  old  comrade  with  him  for  several  days  ; 
feasted  him  like  a  king,  took  him  to  plays  and  bull 
fights,  and  at  length  sent  him  away  rejoicing,  with 
a  big  bag  of  money  for  himself,  and  another  to  be 
distributed  among  his  ancient  messmates  of  the 
Alhambra. 

Lope  always  gave  out  that  a  rich  brother  had  died 
in  America,  and  left  him  heir  to  a  copper  mine,  but 
the  shrewd  gossips  of  the  Alhambra  insist  that  his 
wealth  was  all  derived  from  his  having  discovered 
the  secret  guarded  by  the  two  marble  nymphs  of 
the  Alhambra.  It  is  remarked,  that  these  very  dis- 


288  THE  ALUAMBRA. 

creet  statues  continue  even  unto  the  present  day 
with  their  eyes  fixed  most  significantly  on  the  same 
part  of  the  wall,  which  leads  many  to  suppose  there 
is  still  some  hidden  treasure  remaining  there,  well 
worthy  the  attention  of  the  enterprizing  traveller. 
Though  others,  and  particularly  all  female  visitors, 
regard  them  with  great  complacency,  as  lasting 
monuments  of  the  fact,  that  women  can  keep  a 
secret. 


MAHAMAD 
ABEN  ALAHMAR; 

The  Founder  of  the  Aihambra. 

HAVING  dealt  so  freely  in  the  marvellous  legends 
of  the  Aihambra,  I  feel  as  if  bound  to  give  the  reader 
a  few  facts  concerning  its  sober  history,  or  rather  the 
history  of  those  magnificent  princes,  its  founder  and 
finisher,  to  whom  Europe  is  indebted  for  so  beauti 
ful  and  romantic  an  oriental  monument.  To  at 
tain  these  facts,  I  descended  from  this  region  of 
fancy  and  fiction,  where  every  thing  is  liable  to  take 
an  imaginative  tint,  and  carried  my  researches  among 
the  dusty  tomes  of  the  old  Jesuit's  library  in  the  uni 
versity.  This  once  boasted  repository  of  erudition 
is  now  a  mere  shadow  of  its  former  self,  having  been 
stripped  of  its  manuscripts  and  rarest  works  by  the 
French,  while  masters  of  Granada.  Still  it  contains, 
among  many  ponderous  tomes  of  polemics  of  the 
Jesuit  fathers,  several  curious  tracts  of  Spanish 
literature,  and  above  all,  a  number  of  those  antiqua 
ted,  dusty,  parchment-bound  chronicles,  for  which  I 
have  a  peculiar  veneration. 

In  this  old  Library  I  have  passed  many  delightful 
hours  of  quiet,  undisturbed,  literary  foraging,  for  the 
keys  of  the  doors  and  bookcases  were  kindly  en 
trusted  to  me,  and  I  was  left  alone  to  rummage  at 
my  leisure — a  rare  indulgence  in  those  sanctuaries 
of  learning,  which  too  often  tantalize  the  thirsty 
student  with  the  sight  of  sealed  fountains  of  knowl 
edge.  , 


290  THE  ALII  AMUR  A. 

In  the  course  of  these  visits  I  gleaned  the  follow 
ing  particulars  concerning  the  historical  characters 
In  question. 

The  Moors  of  Granada  regarded  the  Alhambra  as 
a  miracle  of  art,  and  had  a  tradition  that  the  king 
who  founded  it  dealt  in  magic,  or  at  least  was  deeply 
versed  in  alchymy,  by  means  of  which,  he  procured 
the  immense  sums  of  gold  expended  in  its  erection, 
A  brief  view  of  his  reign  will  show  the  real  secret  of 
his  wealth. 

The  name  of  this  monarch,  as  inscribed  on  the 
walls  of  some  of  the  apartments,  was  Aben  Abd'allah, 
(/.  e.  the  father  of  Abdallah,)  but  he  is  commonly 
known  in  Moorish  history  as  Mahamad  Aben  Alah- 
mar,  (or  Mahamad  son  of  Alahmar,)  or  simply  Aben 
Alahmar,  for  the  sake  of  brevity. 

He  was  born  in  Arjona,  in  the  year  of  the  Hegira, 
591,  of  the  Christian  era,  1195,  of  the  noble  family 
of  the  Beni  Nasar,  or  children  of  Nasar,  and  no  ex 
pense  was  spared  by  his  parents  to  fit  him  for  the 
high  station  to  which  the  opulence  and  dignity  of  his 
family  entitled  him.  The  Saracens  of  Spain  were 
greatly  advanced  in  civilization.  Every  principal 
city  was  a  seat  of  learning  and  the  arts,  so  that  it 
was  easy  to  command  the  most  enlightened  instruct 
ors  for  a  youth  of  rank  and  fortune.  Aben  Alah 
mar,  when  he  arrived  at  manly  years,  was  appointed 
Alcayde  or  governor  of  Arjona. and  Jaen,  and  gained 
great  popularity  by  his  benignity  and  justice.  Some 
years  afterwards,  on  the  death  of  Aben  Hud,  the 
'Moorish  power  of  Spain  was  broken  into  factions, 
and  many  places  declared  for  Mahamad  Aben  Alah 
mar.  Being  of  a  sanguine  spirit  and  lofty  ambition, 
he  seized  upon  the  occasion,  made  a  circuit  through 
the  country,  and  was  every  where  received  with  ac 
clamation.  It  was  in  the  year  1238  that  he  entered 
Granada  amidst  the  enthusiastic  shouts  of  the  mul 
titude.  He  was  proclaimed  king  with  every  demon- 


MA  II A  MA  l>  A  REF  ALAHMA  I!          291 

stration  of  joy,  and  soon  became  the  head  of  the 
Moslems  in  Spain,  being  the  first  of  the  illustrious 
line  of  Beni  Nasar  that  had  sat  upon  the  throne. 

His  reign  was  such  as  to  render  him  a  blessing  to 
his  subjects.  He  gave  the  command  of  his  various 
cities  to  such  as  had  distinguished  themselves  by 
valour  and  prudence,  and  who  seemed  most  accept 
able  to  the  people.  He  organized  a  vigilant  police, 
and  established  rigid  rules  for  the  administration  of 
justice.  The  poor  and  the  distressed  always  found 
ready  admission  to  his  presence,  and  he  attended 
personally  to  their  assistance  and  redress.  He 
erected  hospitals  for  the  blind,  the  aged,  and  infirm, 
and  all  those  incapable  of  labour,  and  visited  them 
frequently,  not  on  set  days,  with  pomp  and  form,  so 
as  to  give  time  for  every  thing  to  be  put  in  order  and 
every  abuse  concealed,  but  suddenly  and  unexpect 
edly,  informing  himself  by  actual  observation  and 
close  inquiry  of  the  treatment  of  the  sick,  and  the 
conduct  of  those  appointed  to  administer  to  their  re 
lief. 

He  founded  schools  and  colleges,  which  he  visited 
in  the  same  manner,  inspecting  personally  the  in 
struction  of  the  youth.  He  established  butcheries 
and  public  ovens,  that  the  people  might  be  furnished 
with  wholesome  provisions  at  just  and  regular  prices. 
He  introduced  abundant  streams  of  water  into  the 
city,  erecting  baths  and  fountains,  and  constructing 
aqueducts  and  canals  to  irrigate  and  fertilize  the 
Vega.  By  these  means,  prosperity  and  abundance 
prevailed  in  this  beautiful  city,  its  gates  were 
thronged  with  commerce,  and  its  warehouses  filled 
with  the  »uxuries  and  merchandize  of  every  clime 
and  country. 

While  Mahamad  Aben  Alahmar  was  ruling  his 
fair  domains  thus  wisely  and  prosperously,  he  was 
suddenly  menaced  by  the  horrors 'of  war.  The 
Christians  at  that  time,  profiting  by  the  dismember- 


293  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

ment  of  the  Moslem  power,  were  rapidly  regaining 
their  ancient  territories.  James  the  Conqueror  had 
subjected  all  Valentia,  and  Ferdinand  the  Saint  was 
carrying  his  victorious  armies  into  Andalusia.  The 
latter  invested  the  city  of  Jaen,  and  swore  not  to 
raise  his  camp  until  he  had  gained  possession  of  the 
place.  Mahamad  Aben  Alahmar  was  conscious  of 
the  insufficiency  of  his  means  to  carry  on  a  war  with 
the  potent  sovereign  of  Castile.  Taking  a  sudden 
resolution,  therefore,  he  repaired  privately  to  the 
Christian  camp,  and  made  his  unexpected  appear 
ance  in  the  presence  of  king  Ferdinand.  "In  me," 
said  he,  "  you  behold  Mahamad,  king  of  Granada. 
I  confide  in  your  good  faith,  and  put  myself  under 
your  protection.  Take  all  I  possess,  and  receive  me 
as  your  vassal."  So  saying,  he  knelt  and  kissed  the 
king's  hand  in  token  of  submission. 

King  Ferdinand  was  touched  by  this  instance  of 
confidiog  faith,  and  determined  not  to  be  outdone  in 
generosity.  He  raised  his  late  rival  from  the  earth 
and  embraced  him  as  a  friend,  nor  would  he  accept 
the  wealth  he  offered,  but  received  him  as  a  vassal, 
leaving  him  sovereign  of  his  dominions,  on  condition 
of  paying  a  yearly  tribute,  attending  the  cortes  as 
one  of  the  nobles  of  the  empire,  and  serving  him  in 
war  with  a  certain  number  of  horsemen. 

It  was  not  long  after  this  that  Mahamad  was  called 
upon  for  his  military  services,  to  aid  king  Ferdinand 
in  his  famous  siege  of  Seville.  The  Moorish  king 
sallied  forth  with  five  hundred  chosen  horsemen  of 
Granada,  than  whom  none  in  the  world  knew  better 
how  to  manage  the  steed  or  wield  the  lance.  It  was 
a  melancholy  and  humiliating  service,  however,  for 
they  had  to  draw  the  sword  against  their  brethren 
of  the  faith.  Mahamad  gained  a  melancholy  dis 
tinction  by  his  prowess  in  this  renowned  conquest, 
but  more  true  honour  by  the  humanity  which  he 
prevailed  upon  Ferdinand  to  introcruce  into  the  usages 


MANAMA D  ABEN  ALAHMAR.       •  293 

of  war.  When  in  1248,  the  famous  city  of  Seville 
surrendered  to  the  Castilian  monarch,  Mahamad 
returned  sad  and  full  of  care  to  his  dominions.  He 
saw  the  gathering  ills  that  menaced  the  Moslem 
cause,  and  uttered  an  ejaculation  often  used  by  him 
in  moments  of  anxiety  and  trouble  :  "  How  straitened 
and  wretched  would  be  our  life,  if  our  hope  were  not 
so  spacious  and  extensive."* 

When  the  melancholy  conqueror  approached  his 
beloved  Granada,  the  people  thronged  forth  to  see 
him  with  impatient  joy,  for  they  loved  him  as  a  ben 
efactor.  They  had  erected  arches  of  triumph  in 
honour  of  his  martial  exploits,  and  wherever  he 
passed  he  was  hailed  with  acclamations,  as  El  Galib, 
or  the  conqueror ;  Mahamad  shook  his  head  when 
he  heard  the  appellation,  "  Wa  le  Galib  iU Aid" 
exclaimed  he :  (there  is  no  conqueror  but  God  !) 
From  that  time  forward,  he  adopted  this  exclama 
tion  as  a  motto.  He  inscribed  it  on  an  oblique  band 
across  his  escutcheon,  and  it  continued  to  be  the 
motto  of  his  descendants. 

Mahamad  had  purchased  peace  by  submission  to 
the  Christian  yoke,  but  he  knew  that  where  the  ele 
ments  were  so  discordant,  and  the  motives  for  hos 
tility  so  deep  and  ancient,  it  could  not  be  secure  or 
permanent.  Acting  therefore  upon  an  old  maxim, 
"  arm  thyself  in  peace,  and  clothe  thyself  in  sum 
mer,"  he  improved  the  present  interval  of  tranquil 
lity  by  fortifying  his  dominions  and  replenishing  his 
arsenals,  and  by  promoting  those  useful  arts  which 
give  wealth  and  real  power  to  an  empire.  He  gave 
premiums  and  privileges  to  the  best  artizans ;  im 
proved  the  breed  of  horses  and  other  domestic  ani 
mals  ;  encouraged  husbandry ;  and  increased  the 
natural  fertility  of  the  soil  twofold  by  his  protection, 
making  the  lonely  valleys  of  his  kingdom  to  bloom 


*  li  Que  angoste  y  miserabile  seria  nuestra  vida,  sino  fuera  tan 
jilatada 


dilatada  y  espaciosa  nuestra  csperanza!" 


394  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

like  gardens.  He  fostered  also  the  growth  and 
fabrication  of  silk,  until  the  looms  of  Granada  sur 
passed  even  those  of  Syria  in  the  fineness  and  beauty 
of  their  productions.  He,  moreover,  caused  the 
mines  of  gold  and  silver,  and  other  metals  found  in 
the  mountainous  regions  of  his  dominions,  to  be 
diligently  worked,  and  was  the  first  king  of  Granada 
who  struck  money  of  gold  and  silver  with  his  name, 
taking  great  care  that  the  coins  should  be  skilfully 
executed. 

It  was  about  this  time,  towards  the  middle  of  the 
thirteenth  century,  and  just  after  his  return  from  the 
siege  of  Seville,  that  he  commenced  the  splendid 
palace  of  the  Alhambra :  superintending  the  build 
ing  of  it  in  person,  mingling  frequently  among  the 
artists  and  workmen,  and  directing  their  labours. 

Though  thus  magnificent  in  his  works,  and  great 
in  his  enterprises,  he  was  simple  in  his  person,  and 
moderate  in  his  enjoyments.  His  dress  was  not 
merely  void  of  splendour,  but  so  plain  as  not  to  dis 
tinguish  him  from  his  subjects.  His  harem  boasted 
but  few  beauties,  and  these  he  visited  but  seldom, 
though  they  were  entertained  with  great  magnifi 
cence.  His  wives  were  daughters  of  the  principal 
nobles,  and  were  treated  by  him  as  friends  and  ra 
tional  companions ;  what  is  more,  he  managed  to 
make  them  live  as  friends  with  one  another. 

He  passed  much  of  his  time  in  his  gardens ;  es 
pecially  in  those  of  the  Alhambra,  which  he  had 
stored  with  the  rarest  plants,  and  the  most  beauti 
ful  and  aromatic  flowers.  Here  he  delighted  him 
self  in  reading  histories,  or  in  causing  them  to  be 
read  and  related  to  him  ;  and  sometimes,  in  inter 
vals  of  leisure,  employed  himself  in  the  instruction 
of  his  three  sons,  for  whom  he  had  provided  thf 
most  learned  and  virtuous  masters. 

As  he  had  frankly  and  voluntarily  offered  himself 
a  tributary  vassal  to  Ferdinand,  so  he  always  re- 


MAHAMAD  ABEN  ALAHMAR.         295 

mained  loyal  to  his  word,  giving  him  repeated  proofs 
of  fidelity  and  attachment.  When  that  renowned 
monarch  died  in  Seville,  in  1254,  Mahamad  Aben 
Alahmar  sent  ambassadors  to  condole  with  his  suc 
cessor,  Alonzo  X.,  and  with  them  a  gallant  train  of 
a  hundred  Moorish  cavaliers  of  distinguished  rank, 
who  were  to  attend,  each  bearing  a  lighted  taper 
round  the  royal  bier,  during  the  funeral  ceremonies. 
This  grand  testimonial  of  respect  was  repeated  by 
the  Moslem  monarch  during  the  remainder  of  his 
life,  on  each  anniversary  of  the  death  of  King  Fer 
nando  el  Santo,  when  the  hundred  Moorish  knights 
repaired  from  Granada  to  Seville,  and  took  their 
stations  with  lighted  tapers  in  the  centre  of  the 
sumptuous  cathedral  round  the  cenotaph  of  the  il 
lustrious  deceased. 

Mahamad  Aben  Alahmar  retained  his  faculties 
and  vigour  to  an  advanced  age.  In  his  seventy- 
ninth  year  he  took  the  field  on  horseback,  accom 
panied  by  the  flower  of  his  chivalry,  to  resist  an  in 
vasion  of  his  territories.  As  the  army  sallied  forth 
from  Granada,  one  of  the  principal  adalides  or 
guides,  who  rode  in  the  advance,  accidentally  broke 
his  lance  against  the  arch  of  the  gate.  The  coun 
sellors  of  the  king,  alarmed  by  this  circumstance, 
which  was  considered  an  evil  omen,  entreated  him 
to  return  Their  supplications  were  in  vain.  The 
king  persisted,  and  at  noon-tide  the  omen,  say  the 
Moorish  chroniclers,  was  fatally  fulfilled.  Mahamad 
was  suddenly  struck  with  illness,  and  had  nearly 
fallen  from  his  horse.  He  was  placed  on  a  litter, 
and  borne  back  towards  Granada,  but  his  illness  in 
creased  to  such  a  degree,  that  they  were  obliged  to 
pitch  his  tent  in  the  Vega.  His  physicians  were 
filled  with  consternation,  not  knowing  what  remedy 
to  prescribe.  In  a  few  hours  he  died  vomiting  blood, 
and  in  violent  convulsions.  The  Castilian  prince, 
Don  Philip,  brother  of  Alonzo  X. ,  was  bv  his  side 


:?<io  THE  ALffAM&RA 

when  he  expired.  His  body  was  embalmed,  enclosed 
in  a  silver  coffin,  and  buried  in  the  Alhambra,  in  a 
sepulchre  of  precious  marble,  amidst  the  unfeigned 
lamentations  of  his  subjects,  who  bewailed  him  as  a 
parent. 

Such  was  the  enlightened  patriot  prince,  who 
founded  the  Alhambra,  whose  name  remains  em 
blazoned  among  its  most  delicate  and  graceful  orna 
ments,  and  whose  memory  is  calculated  to  inspire 
the  loftiest .  associations  in  those  who  tread  these 
fading  scenes  of  his  magnificence  and  glory.  Though 
his  undertakings  were  vast,  and  his  expenditures 
immense,  yet  his  treasury  was  always  full ;  and  this 
seeming  contradiction  gave  rise  to  the  story  that  he 
was  versed  in  magic  art  and  possessed  of  the  secret 
for  tramsmuting  baser  metals  into  gold. 

Those  who  have  attended  to  his  domestic  policy, 
as  here  set  forth,  will  easily  understand  the  natural 
magic  and  simple  alchymy  which  made  his  ample 
treasury  to  overflow. 


JUSEF   ABUL    HAG  I  AS. 

The  Founder  of  the  Alhambra. 

BENEATH  the  governor's  apartment  in  the  Al 
hambra,  is  the  royal  Mosque,  where  the  Moorish 
monarchs  performed  their  private  devotions.  Though 
consecrated  as  a  Catholic  chapel,  it  still  bears  traces 
of  its  Moslem  origin ;  the  Saracenic  columns  with 
their  gilded  capitals,  and  the  latticed  gallery  for  the 
females  of  the  harem,  may  yet  be  seen,  and  the 
escutcheons  Of  the  Moorish  kings  are  mingled  on 
the  walls  with  those  of  the  Castilian  sovereigns. 

In  this  consecrated  place  perished  the  illustrious 
Jusef  Abul  Hagias,  the  high-minded  prince  who 
completed  the  Alhambra,  and  who,  for  his  virtues 
and  endowments,  deserves  almost  equal  renown  with 
its  magnanimous  founder.  It  is  with  pleasure  I  draw 
forth  from  the  obscurity  in  which  it  has  too  long 
remained,  the  name  of  another  of  those  princes  of  a 
departed  and  almost  forgotten  race,  who  reigned  in 
elegance  and  splendour  in  Andalusia,  when  all  Eu 
rope  was  in  comparative  barbarism. 

Jusef  Abul  Hagias,  (or,  as  it  is  sometimes  written, 
Haxis.)  ascended  the  throne  of  Granada  in  the  year 
1333.  and  his  personal  appearance  and  mental  quali 
ties  were  such  as  to  win  all  hearts,  and  to  awaken 
anticipations  of  a  beneficent  and  prosperous  reign. 
He  was  of  a  noble  presence  and  great  bodily  strength, 
united  to  manly  beauty.  His  complexion  was  ex 
ceeding  fair,  and,  according  to  the  Arabian  chron 
iclers,  he  heightened  the  gravity  and  majesty  of  his 


298  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

appearance  by  suffering  his  beard  to  grow  to  a  dig 
nified  length,  and  dying  it  black.  He  had  an  excel 
lent  memory,  well  stored  with  science  and  eriUition  ; 
he  was  of  a  lively  genius,  and  accounted' the  best 
poet  of  his  time,  and  his  manners  were  gentle,  affa 
ble,  and  urbane. 

Jusef  possessed  the  courage  common  to  all  gener 
ous  spirits,  but  his  genius  was  more  calculated  for 
peace  than  war,  and,  though  obliged  to  take  up 
arms  repeatedly  in  his  time,  he  was  generally  un 
fortunate.  He  carried  the  benignity  of  his  nature 
into  warfare,  prohibiting  all  wanton  cruelty,  and 
enjoining  mercy  and  protection  towards  women  and 
children,  the  aged  and  infirm,  and  all  friars  and  per 
sons  of  holy  and  recluse  life.  Among  other  ill- 
starred  enterprizes,  he  undertook  a  great  campaign 
in  conjunction  with  the  king  of  Morocco,  against  the 
kings  of  Castile  and  Portugal,  but  was  defeated  in 
the  memorable  battle  of  Salado ;  a  disastrous  re 
verse  which  had  nearly  proved  a  ileath  blow  to  the 
Moslem  power  in  Spain. 

Jusef  obtained  a  long  truce  after  this  defeat,  dur 
ing  which  time  he  devoted  himself  to  the  instruction 
of  his  people  and  the  improvement  oc  their  morals 
and  manners.  For  this  purpose  he  established 
schools  in  all  the  villages,  with  simple  and  uniform 
systems  of  education  ;  he  obliged  every  hamlet  of 
more  than  twelve  houses  to  have  a  Mosque,  and 
prohibited  various  abuses  and  indecorums,  that  hud 
been  introduced  into  the  ceremonies  of  religion,  and 
the  festivals  and  public  amusements  of  the  people 
He  attended  vigilantly  to  the  police  of  the  city, 
establishing  nocturnal  guards  and  patrols,  and  super 
intending  all  municipal  concerns. 

His  attention  was  also  directed  towards  finishing 
the  great  architectural  works  commenced  by  his 
predecessors,  and  erecting  others  on  his  own  plans. 
The  Alhambra,  which  had  been  founded  by  the 


JU8EF  AB  VL  HA  GIAS.  2'JO 

good  Aben  Alahmar,  was  now  completed.  Jusef 
constructed  the  beautiful  gate  of  Justice,  forming  the 
grand  entrance  to  the  fortress,  which  he  finished  in 
1 348.  He  likewise  adorned  many  of  the  courts  and 
halls  of  the  palace,  as  may  be  seen  by  the  inscrip 
tions  on  the  walls,  in  which  his  name  repeatedly 
occurs.  He  ouilt  also  the  noble  Alcazar,  or  citadel 
of  Malaga ;  now  unfortunately  a  mere  mass  of  crum 
bling  ruins,  but  which,  probably,  exhibited  in  its  in 
terior  similar  elegance  and  magnificence  with  the 
Alhambra. 

The  genius  of  a  sovereign  stamps  a  character  upon 
his  time.  The  nobles  of  Granada,  imitating  the 
elegant  and  graceful  taste  of  Jusef,  soon  filled  the 
city  of  Granada  with  magnificent  palaces  ;  the  halls 
of  which  paved  in  Mosaic,  the  walls  and  ceilings 
wrought  in  fret-work,  and  delicately  gilded  and 
painted  with  azure,  vermilion,  and  other  brilliant 
colours,  or  minutely  inlaid  with  cedar  and  other 
precious  woods ;  specimens  of  which  have  survived 
in  all  their  lustre  the  lapse  of  several  centuries. 

Many  of  the  houses  had  fountains,  which  threw 
up  jets  of  water  to  refresh  and  cool  the  air.  They 
had  lofty  towers  also,  of  wood  or  stone,  curiously 
carved  and  ornamented,  and  covered  with  plates  of 
metal  that  glittered  in  the  sun.  Such  was  the  refined 
and  delicate  taste  in  architecture  that  prevailed 
among  this  elegant  people ;  insomuch,  that  to  use 
the  beautiful  simile  of  an  Arabian  writer,  "  Gra 
nada,  in  the  days  of  Jusef,  was  as  a  silver  vase  filled 
with  emeralds  and  jacinths." 

One  anecdote  will  be  sufficient  to  show  the  mag 
nanimity  of  this  generous  prince.  The  long  truce 
which  had  succeeded  the  battle  of  Salado,  was  at  an 
end,  and  every  effort  of  Jusef  to  renew  it  was  in  vain. 
His  deadly  foe,  Alfonso  XI.  of  Castile,  took  the  field 
with  great  force,  and  laid  siege  to  Gibraltar.  '  Jusef 
reluctantly  took  up  arms,  and  sent  troops  to  the  re- 


800  THE  AL1IAMB11A. 

lief  of  the  place  ;  when,  in  the  midst  of  his  anxiety, 
he  received  tidings  that  his  dreaded  foe  had  suddenly 
fallen  a  victim  to  the  plague.  Instead  of  manifest 
ing  exultation  on  the  occasion,  Jusef  called  to  mind 
the  great  qualities  of  the  deceased,  and  was  touched 
with  a  noble  sorrow.  "  Alas  !  "  cried  he,  "  the  world 
has  lost  one  of  its  most  excellent  princes ;  a  sover 
eign  who  knew  how  to  honour  merit,  whether  in 
friend  or  foe  !  " 

The  Spanish  chroniclers  themselves  bear  witness 
to  this  magnanimity.  According  to  their  accounts, 
the  Moorish  cavaliers  partook  of  the  sentiment  of 
their  king,  and  put  on  mourning  for  the  death  of  Al 
fonso.  Even  those  of  Gibraltar,  who  had  been  so 
closely  invested,  when  they  knew  that  the  hostile 
monarch  lay  dead  in  his  camp,  determined  among 
themselves  that  no  hostile  movement  should  be 
made  against  the  Christians. 

The  day  on  which  the  camp  was  broken  up,  and 
the  army  departed,  bearing  the  corpse  of  Alfonso, 
the  Moors  issued  in  multitudes  from  Gibraltar,  and 
stood  mute  and  melancholy,  watching  the  mournful 
pageant.  The  same  reverence  for  the  deceased  was 
observed  by  all  the  Moorish  commanders  on  the 
frontiers,  who  suffered  the  funeral  train  to  pass  in 
safety,  bearing  the  corpse  of  the  Christian  sovereign 
from  Gibraltar  to  Seville.* 

Jusef  did  not  long  survive  the  enemy  he  had  so 
generously  deplored.  In  the  year  1354,  as  he  was 
one  day  praying  in  the  royal  mosque  of  the  Aihain- 
bra,  a  maniac  rushed  suddenly  from  behind,  and 
plunged  a  dagger  in  his  side.  The  cries  of  the  king 


*UY  los  Moros  que  estaban  en  la  villa  y  Castillo  de  Gibralta- 
despues  que  sopieron  que  el  Rey  Don  Alonzo  era  muerto,  order 
naron  entresi  que  ninguno  non  fuesse  osado  de  fazer  ningun  movi- 
miento  contra  los  Chri.stianos,  nin  mover  pelear  contra  ellos,  es- 
tovieron  todos  quedos  y  dezian  e-ntre  ellos  que  aquel  dia  munera  un 
uoble  rey  y  gran  principe  del  mundo  ! " 


JU3KF  A  B  U  /;  11 A  (jIA  X.  3U1 

brought  his  guards  and  courtiers  to  his  assistance. 
They  found  him  weltering  in  his  blood,  and  in  con 
vulsions.  He  was  borne  to  the  royal  apartments, 
but  expired  almost  immediately.  The  murderer  was 
cut  to  pieces,  and  his  limbs  burnt  in  public,  to  gratify 
the  fury  of  the  populace. 

The  body  of  the  king  was  interred  in  a  superb 
sepulchre  of  white  marble ;  a  long  epitaph  in  letters 
of  gold  upon  an  azure  ground  recorded  his  virtues. 
"  Here  lies  a  king  and  martyr  of  an  illustrious  line , 
gentle,  learned  and  virtuous ;  renowned  for  the 
graces  of  his  person  and  his  manners ;  whose 
clemency,  piety,  and  benevolence,  were  extolled 
throughout  the  kingdom  of  Granada.  He  was  a 
great  prince,  an  illustrious  captain ;  a  sharp  sword 
of  the  Moslems ;  a  valiant  standard-bearer  among 
the  most  potent  monarchs,"  &c. 

The  mosque  still  remains,  which  once  resounded 
with  the  dying  cries  of  Jusef,  but  the  monument 
which  recorded  his  virtues,  has  long  since  disap 
peared.  His  name,  however,  remains  inscribed 
among  the  ornaments  of  the  Alhambra,  and  will 
be  perpetuated  in  connexion  with  this  renowned 
pile,  which  it  was  his  pride  and  delight  to  beautify. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

RENEWALS  ONLY— TEL.  NO.  642-3405 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


RECEIVED 


PEB2V69-10AI 


EOAK  DEPT. 


REC'D  LD 


26'69-lQ  AM 


fiECD  LD  MAY  2 


71 


98 


KEC.CIR.  JAN  05 '83 

JUT  1  K  it 


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